Felan: The Story of a Young Wolf
by Edgar-A.-Poe
Summary: A new mutant has been discovered by Xavier, but this girl is different. Her powers seem to be exponential, both in number and power. Can Charles and Wolverine help her discover her past? Can they help her overcome it? Revised as story titled Regeneration.
1. The Animal

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing- it's all comic people and the movie producers. I'm just borrowing it for a bit.

**Author's Note:** First X-Men fic. Yeah… Own character, kinda angsty, may not always make sense, but it does in my mind. Comments and helpful critism is more than welcome. Now, onto the fic! (And if you've read my Harry Potter fic, you'll know I have a fetish for the name "Rebecca". To explain this, I just wish it were _my_ name is all. And I like naming my characters the same name to see how many personalities I can give them. I'm just weird. grin)

**Chapter One: The Animal**

I am alone, as I should be. There is no company an animal could want more than itself. And you should never cage an animal. No; never cage an animal. They don't like it very much. I have found this out from experience, two years of it. They explode when you keep them in a cage for too long. That man will learn to appreciate that now…

I hate Florida weather and its sudden showers. It does not help me at the moment. It only leaves a nice trail of blood for the police and their dogs to follow. I went home to get my stuff, that's all, and how am I dealt with? Am I spoken to with dignity and respect? No. Am I shot at by my father and the police because of what I am?

Yes.

I love my family, I truly do. I missed them with all of my heart while I was being held by that man. I thought they had misunderstood feelings, and would come to get me from my living Hell. But that was when I was still foolish, still a child. I know better now, especially after having been shot at by one of the people that created me.

I'm lucky to be alive. I was going to die where I was; it would've been a slow, painful death, drawn out by a man whose own mind is as sick as a pervert's. No. That man _is_ a pervert.

I escaped from him a month ago. It took me one long month to travel back to my home: to Jacksonville, Florida, where I thought I was loved. I had found an abandoned log cabin soon after I had escaped from that man's clutches. I found I was near New York, but had no recollection of where his lair was. I only remembered a few things: why I had been brought there, what was done to me once I was there, and my escape. After that, everything was a big, black spot within my mind. And I had no one to help me.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a baying dog. Soon, a chorus joined in, and I felt as though I was surrounded. My upper lip rose into a sneer, and I jumped, bag, body, and aching limbs, to the nearest tree trunk. I went like this for some time, leaping from tree to tree, in order to confuse the dogs. It was something I had learned how to do while I was still young, from watching too much TV. I could lose almost any animal, or person for that matter, that was trailing me. It was a technique I had grown to love over the past month, and I cherished my mutations now more than when I had first received them.

I got down from the tree I was currently holding onto, and began to run. I stopped in the middle of a small, open area, and bounded to a tree near by. I clutched the bark, and looked down; I was only twenty feet above the ground, and I knew I needed to go higher. I clambered up the side of the tree, and fled into the safety of the leaf-littered branches. And I waited.

Men with their dogs came into the clearing. The dogs sniffed about, becoming very confused when they came to where I had last stood. I felt sorry for them. I never knew what it was like to feel owned, for I had been all human at one point. Then I was given a master, and I was forced to be his slave. I was an animal now, like them; but unlike them, I had escaped my master. My life was my own again.

"Come on, Dog," said one of the men, and clapped a leash onto the biggest dog's collar. The hound strained against its leash, baying as loudly as he could; this stirred the others into a baying frenzy, and I laughed at their stupidity, feeling idiotic for ever feeling the least bit of pity for them at all.

"There's nothing here," the man continued. He turned to another man: "She's gone. We're never gonna find her in this." He waved his hand about, indicating the storm.

"The storm's getting worse, anyway," the second man replied, wincing at a bolt of lightening. "We're gonna need to put out a notice to the public that a dangerous mutant is on the run."

I growled at the last remark. I may have been dangerous, but only when provoked. They had provoked me, so I maimed one of them. An eye for an eye. A missing limb for a bullet wound.

I controlled my anger, and my growl turned into a smirk. I was the most wanted creature in all of Jacksonville, possibly all of Florida. Governor Jeb Bush, if he still was governor of Florida, would confirm that there was a dangerous mutant on the loose, and put Florida into yet another state of emergency. This would spread throughout the news stations, because mutants were the big thing now, and soon the entire country would be hunting for me, for mutants, for my new family.

I laughed quietly at this thought, and waited for the men to leave. They all did, and very quickly. I stopped myself from jumping on the shoulders of a last straggler; he had done nothing to me, so I let him be.

I hopped from the tree, landing noiselessly upon the ground. Looking about, I decided my course would take me north. I did not care if the bullets remained in my body, although my healing capabilities should have taken care of them long ago. I looked at my shoulder, and saw that my wound still bled, though only slightly.

"Damn," I said under my breath. "What the hell is wrong with my powers?"

Whatever, I thought. They'll come back eventually. I returned my attention to the north, and began walking in that direction, pulling my jacket tightly over my shoulders.


	2. Traveling Companion

**Disclaimer:** Ownership from me nothing. Ok? Ok. Now that we've reached that understanding, on with the show...**  
**

**Chapter 2: Traveling Companion**

It took me another month to reach the north. I had walked through Northeast Florida, Georgia, North and South Carolina, all the way up to the Canadian border with a pack of my personal things hanging across my back. I had gone back to my old home, and stolen everything I could grab before my parents awoke to call the cops on me again. Out of kindness, passing strangers would stop and offer me some money, or food, or water, or even a place to stay. I declined all those who offered a roof over my head, though never the food or money. I was well off for the most part; my powers had started working again, though my memory of the time I had spent away from my family had not returned fully.

I had dreams at night about a lair underground; I could hear the water splashing against the roof of the place as I attempted to sleep. I had dreams where I saw a short, flabby man walk closer to me, a shadow at first, for he always shone a blinding light into my eyes. As he came closer, I saw his thick-rimmed glasses, and his stone gray eyes staring coldly at me; lines showed all throughout his face, telling me his exact age.

Snapping his fingers together, he called to him an assistant, who thrust me forward onto the ground, a table, or a chair. I fought with all my strength, but this man was always stronger than me. I felt a sting on the back of my neck, and I winced, clawing my hands into the surface before me. Soon, I recalled all of what he did to me while I was under his spell of chemicals. I saw him raping me, but there was nothing I could do about it, no matter how much my mind screamed and kicked against the walls of my head for me to wake up.

When I awoke from his chemical spell, I felt dirty, unsettled, and I detested myself. I knew that this man, whose name I cannot recall to save my life, raped me almost every time he came into contact with me. The other times were to tell me I was an animal who could never love, be loved, or be trusted. I was a tool for him to use and abuse, and that is what he made me. I was _his_ animal, in his secret underground lair; his animal to use for his own liking, to his own taste.

Always after those dreams I would wake up from it with a cold sweat and cry. I would cry because I had no recollection of who did this to me, or why. All I knew was that my parents had sentenced me there, to my death. I was no longer myself, I was this man's animal, though he could not control me anymore; I was out of his clutches.

It was night when I started my journey again. I had no set goal as to where I was going, but at this point, I felt I didn't really need one. Life on the run wasn't as bad as I'd thought it to be. I could keep this up for a while, for however long I needed to, until I was presumed dead in my home state. Who knew? Maybe my parents would die, and I would be able to reclaim all of my possessions I had to leave behind.

Walking in the woods near the side of a large interstate, I felt like someone was watching me. Brushing off the feeling as my own form of paranoia, I continued on, not going anywhere close to the road or people. I looked down at my hands, then flexed them; it felt like ice was breaking off of them, but I hadn't noticed. I looked down at myself, finally seeing how unfit I was clothed in this weather. I had noticed that since I'd gained my powers I never felt hot nor cold, and I couldn't get sunburned or frostbitten, because my healing factor restored me as soon as I started getting those things. It was truly a remarkable sight, and though I'd had that specific power for a good while, it still amazed me to watch my skin heal itself.

A branch snapped behind me, rushing me out of my thoughts. I was a cornered animal once again, whirling around, sniffing the air, ready to fight, bite, and claw my way out of this situation. I watched in surprised amazement as a small red fox darted from out of the undergrowth and sprinted in front of me. It was quickly followed by a thin white wolf, snapping its hungry jaws at the fox.

"Hey!" I shouted at the wolf. It ignored me, still chasing the fox, which had by this time gone down a small hole. The wolf dug at the entrance of the hole, whining piteously as it did so. I felt a small wave of sympathy for it.

"Hey," I said again, softer this time, kneeling down as I did so. I took off my bag and opened it up, searching for the sandwich I had been given by a stranger at a diner a few days back. It had plenty of meat in it. "Hey, buddy."

I had caught the wolf's attention now. It turned to me, pressed its ears against its head, and growled; the gray hairs on his back began to stand on end.

"Don't start that, buddy," I said, still quiet. "You growl, no food."

The wolf stopped growling almost immediately, and began to approach, unsure of me. It tucked its tail between its legs, inching closer.

"C'mon, I won't hurt ya," I said, holding the food farther away from my body. "I only hurt people sometimes."

With that, he snatched the food quickly from my hands, retreating a few feet away to chomp it into bits before swallowing it.

"There now," I said, placing my hands on my knees. "That wasn't too painful, was it?"

His ears perked up, and he looked at me with sudden renewed interest. He cocked his head at me, and I saw his nose begin to sniff the air, trying to figure me out. I laughed lightly at him, then picked up my bag and started off. I heard him begin to follow me, his paws padding quickly through the snow.

"Uh-uh," I said, turning about. "None a that, now. I don't need people seein' me with a wolf, too. That'd really be a strange sight. Now go on, you stay here."

I waved my hand at him, and he moved back a few feet, making like he would go. I turned around, muttering to myself as I started off again.

"Didn't know wolves lived in this part a the country," I mumbled. "Damn thing. Tryin' ta think it can just follow me like that." I shook my head, then stopped, hearing the soft pad-pad-pad-pad-pad-pad-pad behind me again. I sighed, turning around to face him. He stopped as soon as he saw me turning, and waited. We locked eyes for a few moments.

"You wanna follow me?" I asked. "Fine. Just... don't expect me ta feed ya everyday. You can catch yer own stuff. I've got my own stomach ta worry about."

He held his nose aloft in the air, and began to pad along as soon as I started up again. This is weird, I thought, listening to my new friend walk behind me. He eventually gained enough courage to walk beside me, though there was a distance of at least ten feet between us at all times. He passed in and out of sight while he walked, going in front and behind clumps of trees. I guess I enjoyed his company somewhat, though I was so used to being by myself that I had sort of forgotten what companionship was like.

As we walked, I was able to study him more, too. Though he was all white, he had gray tips on the ends of the fur on his back, as well as some gray on the tip of his tail and near the base of his legs that spread out onto his paws. He walked with a slight limp in his back right leg, and his tail never seemed to stop moving, nor did his nose. His ears were always up, swiveling all around, picking up every sound, unless I spoke to him, in which case they pointed directly at me, as soldiers do while standing at attention.

I stopped that night to rest. Not sleep, but to rest. I never slept these days, for fear of ending up in that lair again, or in jail for attempted murder of that policeman back in Jacksonville. The wolf laid down about ten feet away from me, watching me intently as I put my back up against a tree and drew out another sandwich, my dinner. He had not stopped watching me that whole day, curious about my mannerisms and my smell. Now, his eyes locked on the sandwich, and he whined again. I glared at him.

"Go get your own, dude," I said, biting into the sandwich. He put his head on his paws, still staring. I sighed, breaking the sandwich in half and throwing part of it to him. He gulped it down, then wagged his tail in appreciation, watching me down the last part of the sandwich.

I wasn't sure what to make of this creature, though he obviously found some comfort in me. He stayed near me that whole night, even sleeping some, leaving me to take watch. I knew he was weak, and had traveled a long way, and was desperate for food. Maybe, I thought, that's why he followed me, to get food. Once he was strong, he might be back on his way again. I shook my head. This was just too strange to think about.

Some time in the early morning, the wolf stood, looking antsy. He paced in front of me, his ears swiveling every way again. He stopped, looked to the east, where the sun was beginning to rise, and whined once. He looked back to me, his yellow eyes dancing with anticipation. I rose, and he pranced around me, still keeping his distance, but his body language told me to hurry.

It was very strange, this creature being able to sense something before me. And it was definitely a new experience for me, being around an animal I had admired my whole life, having it sort of be my guardian angel in a way. I didn't know what it had sensed, but whatever it was, I wasn't certain I wanted to find out.

I picked up my pace that day, the wolf trotting along beside me, now only about six feet away. It still hadn't allowed me to touch him, which was pretty standard, knowing how much wolves feared humans. This one was different for a number of reasons, one being that he'd actually approached me, and two, that he'd stuck with me. It felt like I had a pet again, though I knew this wolf was wild, and could revert to its old ways in a matter of moments. I respected him, and he, in turn, felt this respect, and helped me.

That afternoon, he killed a large rabbit, bringing it back to me with a proud strut. He laid it at my feet then danced about on top of the snow. I smiled, picking up the rabbit. I needed to build a fire to cook it, but had no pot or water.

"Here," I said, putting it back on the ground. "Thanks, but unlike you, I can't eat this raw."

He cocked his head at me again, then whined, nosing the rabbit closer to me. When he saw that I was serious, and didn't want it, he didn't seem hurt by this, but seemed to understand in a way why I didn't want it. So, he gulped it down quickly, and walked beside me again as we made our way to the west, walking closer and closer to the sun. By this time, the highway had disappeared from my view and range of hearing. This didn't faze me; I wanted to be away from people.

As the sun began to set again, I looked to the wolf, which seemed to be growing a bit stronger. I finally saw why he limped. There were teeth marks in his leg, and the cuts looked like they were on the verge of infection. I felt sorry for this poor creature, my only friend in this world at the moment.

"I s'pose I should give you a name, huh," I said. He looked up at me, sniffing. "Well, you look like a..." I stopped, smiling; his ears perked up. "...Laban. Like it?" His tongue lolled lazily out of the side of his mouth. "I'll take that as a yes."

He sneezed, stopping in his tracks for a minute before rushing to catch up with me again. "You're a strange one, Laban," I said quietly. He snorted.


	3. Who is This Xavier?

**Chapter 3: Who is This Xavier?**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. The end.  
**

That night, we stopped, and I leaned against the base of a tree, fiddling with a large stick I had found. Laban sort of dozed beside me, though the wolf still kept his distance; I had managed to pet him for a brief moment before he realized it and dashed away, though he seemed surprised that I hadn't hurt him when I touched. He seemed more trusting of me, and that was good for me; no one could ever trust an animal. The man's words repeated themselves over and over in my head, more so no than ever before.

I released a claw from my hand, making Laban swivel an ear in my direction. When he couldn't place the sound, he looked up, and watched me while I whittled the stick (okay, so maybe it was a branch) into something. I was never sure what things like this would end up looking like, but it was always better that way, I guessed. Soon, though, I saw that the branch wanted to become a walking staff.

With skilled practice, I had the basis of the staff cut out, and a large section still left over for the top. I left it there, knowing I would like to do something spectacular, yet peculiar with it. I made the base of the staff look as though it were two branches coming together, curling around one another as if in an intricate dance. I smiled at my handiwork. The hours passed by slowly as I whittled. I soon grew sensitive to the noises around me, though it seemed like I wasn't paying my surroundings much heed. I always tended to do this, and it helped me, somehow, vent my anger and frustration, almost like how a person pays money to go to yoga to sit in silence. I can do it on my own, for free.

So when I heard the footsteps behind me, I allowed Laban to get up and leave swiftly, a shadow moving over the glaringly white snow. He soon disappeared into the brush of the trees, though I knew he was nearby, watching. I could hear his breathing. I continued my work on the staff; after many hours, I had finally decided what to do with the top. I was just about finished carving out the last of the wood when the footsteps drew closer. I held out the finished product, looking at the top proudly. It looked like a number of branches had come crashing together, like they were pieces of driftwood thrown onto the shore by waves and were now stuck together for all of time.

I made as though I was going to put the staff down, but instead, in one swift movement, I grabbed the top and shoved it behind me. I felt the staff imbed itself into something soft, heard a loud thud, followed by a startled, "OOF!" and then heard someone rolling about in the snow, growling curses under their breath. I turned, seeing a man curled up into a ball, finally stop himself from rolling. He stood taller than I, though when he stood, he hunched over, holding onto his stomach with one arm. I judged him as strong, but I knew I could take him.

He held up a hand, as if signaling me to wait a moment. I looked at him, puzzled, but stood my ground, watching with amusement as he struggled to regain his breath. I crossed my arms over my chest, leaving the staff sticking up in the ground beside my feet, though it was not embedded in the snow. I wondered how long it would be until he noticed. Shifting, I grew impatient, though it had only been a moment or so since I'd hit him. Ignoring his still held-up hand, I rushed over to him, grabbing my staff as I went, taking it in both hands by either end and shoving it towards his neck. I pounded his back into a tree, and he let out an enormous grunt.

"Ya took too long," I said, smirking up at him. He did not seem amazed by my strength, though he didn't allow it to go unchecked, either. He looked at me through a strange lens that covered both of his eyes, making it seem as though he had only one eye to spare. He suddenly gasped for breath, as if just realizing he had a piece of wood thrust against his throat.

"What brings you here?" I asked casually, enjoying the sound of his gasping. I let my smile show, and it seemed to anger him. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but I only pushed the wood farther down his throat. It stopped any want of his to talk or argue.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "But you'll haveta speak up. Can't hear ya." I held a hand to my ear, now holding him up with one hand upon the stick. He saw this as his chance, and kicked out at me. I merely moved out of the way, watching him drop to the ground as I stood over him.

I chuckled lightly at him, bending over to get nearer to his face. He looked up at me, glaring. He was holding back, obviously, and I decided to steal a little glimpse into his mind, just to see what he thought of me.

_No, Scott,_ I heard immediately. _Don't attack her. She doesn't trust men, the professor said so. So why did you come along? To try and knock some sense into her? Great plan... _There was sarcasm dripping off of his comments to himself, and my smile faded. This man knew about me, from some source he called "the professor." With this new knowledge, it startled me, and I took up my staff in both hands; playing around was now over.

"Who is this professor person, Mr. Summers?" I asked. He looked up at me, though I could not tell if he was shocked or not at first. Gradually, I knew he wasn't. He knew too much. I sneered, ready to hit him upside the head with my staff, but I held back. "Answer me!" I growled, raising the staff like I would strike him.

He prepared himself for it, but knew it wouldn't come. I didn't know it wouldn't come until I felt my body grow ridged. No matter how hard I tried to move, I found I couldn't. This got me even more angered by the passing moment; I felt the animal instinct within me begin to pick up again, and I did not try to subdue it.

Two more pairs of footsteps sounded upon the snow behind me. Two females, by the smell and sound of them. One of them was controlling me. I grinned; she'd be in for a surprise. But, my thoughts were shattered by a snarling and snapping sound, then a sudden outcry. The hold upon me lightened just enough for me to grab a hold (mentally) of whoever it was who had a hold on me. It was the woman with red hair and green eyes that blew through the black night. I now held her where I wanted, and looked to Laban, who held the other woman at bay.

"Good boy," I whispered to him. I felt a twinge inside my mind, and turned back to the red-head, smiling. "Sorry, sweetheart," I said in the most condescending voice I could muster. "But this is a private party only." I tapped my head, still holding her up.

At this point, I took time to check out the other woman. She was of African descent, and I could tell she had once lived there, and not always here, in America. Another thing that set her apart was her hair that matched the color of the snow.

"Rebecca," I heard the man say from behind me. I turned, still able to hold the other woman up without even thinking about it. I faced him, my face set in stone. He knew my name. That was a bad omen for anyone I came across.

"Rebecca," he repeated, standing stiffly. "We've come to help you."

"Help me?" I asked. I let a beat pass before I chuckled. "My dear boy, it looks like you're the one that needs help." He took offense to that tone, to the word _boy_, and this only made me chuckled more.

"Don't worry," I continued. "I'll be on my way again in a moment. I may do you three no harm, but I can't say the same for my companion." I looked back to Laban, who still bared his teeth at the African woman, who stood with her back pressed up against a tree. No fear showed within the depths of her eyes, and that is what bothered me.

I whistled, and called, "Laban!"

The wolf dropped the hair on the back of its neck and back, slowly released his lips back to normal placement, and trotted calmly over to me. All three strangers still held their positions. I wasn't sure if the two I didn't hold onto telepathically were too scared to move or if they only thought I had a hold on them.

"It's been a pleasure," I said snidely, letting the woman float softly to the ground, landing without a noise on her feet still. With that, I turned around, staff still in hand as I sauntered over to my bag, which I picked up with ease, swung over my shoulder, and continued my strut. I smiled at myself.

"Rebecca," I heard the man call after me. I stopped. Why wouldn't he just _shut up_? "Rebecca, we know what you've been through. We want to help you."

I whirled on him, throwing my staff at him. It rooted itself into the tree trunk just an inch away from his head.

"How do you know?" I asked, my voice not my own anymore. The animal had had enough, and was taking over.

Scott swallowed, and I knew he was peering nervously at the staff stuck just next to his head through that weird lens. But no smile came to my face, only rage showed through. Laban once again began to growl, picking up on my attitude.

"Our friend and mentor," Scott finally began after settling himself down, "a man by the man of Professor Charles Xavier, has learned much about you over time."

Annoyed and angry, I suddenly was grasping him by his throat. "Yer not answerin' me correctly," I said quietly to him, holding him up by his neck. There was no brace for his back this time. He pulled at my fingers, but it was no use.

"Don't take what one man did to you out on all the rest," said a brave voice from behind me. I let Scott go, though he still hovered in mid-air, held there by my mind. I saw the African woman standing before the red-head. Her voice had given her away; she was an African native, and her accent only added to the effect.

"So ya do know of me," I said, almost to myself, though the women heard me. I snapped my fingers, and Laban sat, staring intently at the woman. My anger was almost gone; I couldn't be irritated with these women. "Explain," I ordered.

"Professor Xavier runs a school in New York," the African woman began, not missing a beat. "This school is for mutants, mostly children on the run, though there are adults there that serve as teachers. Some are there because they have nowhere else to go; others are on the run from the law for crimes they did not commit."

"A mutant school?" I said, becoming interested, though I did not let my voice show it. "Continue." I waved my hand at her.

"Professor Xavier has a machine with which he can locate all mutants or regular humans in the world with," the red-head said. "This is what he found you with. He's known of you ever since you first discovered your powers, and he's been worried about you ever since. After you disappeared for those two years, he thought he'd lost you."

I held up my hand for her to stop. "What's with this professor guy?" I asked. "Why's he so interested in me?"

"Haven't you noticed a gift you've been given, Rebecca?" the African woman asked, daring to step closer to me. "Most mutants only have one, maybe two, powers at their fingertips." She paused. "How many do you have?"

"Twelve," I answered swiftly. I had kept count ever since I'd begun receiving them when I was fourteen years old. "Two for every year since I've been a mutant." I said this with no emotion in my voice; I'd learned that tactic over the years. It had helped me with the man who gave me my claws, and it might help me here.

"Then you have your answer as to why Professor Xavier has such a keen interest in you," she replied. "He knows you're not like this, Rebecca. He knows what happened to you, and all he wishes to do is help."

"So, what, he wants me to come with y'all, go back to his school, learn to love people again, become _almost_ normal?"

The two women looked to one another, then the red-head looked back my way. "When you put it like that, it sounds stupid," she said. "But, yes, basically that is why we were sent to find you."

I scoffed. "I don't think so," I told them. I released my hold on Scott, letting him crumple to the ground. What did I care? He was just another guy.

"Don't you wanna catch the man who did this to you?" Scott breathed harshly at me, grasping his throat with one hand. "Don't you wanna let him know how it's messed up the rest of your life? How you feel like you can never be with another man because of what he did to you?"

At his words, I was in his face, breathing hard, staring at him unblinkingly through his lens. I raised my lips. "Every damn day of my life," I said, not allowing the animal in me to take over, though I found it to be a strain. "Don't you think that I've wished him dead ever since he first touched me? Don't you think that every time I look at a man, all I can see is his face, laughing at me, cursing me, telling me that I'm an animal? _His animal_!"

I tore away from him, leaving him breathless; he had been sure I was going to behead him, and he slid down the trunk of the tree to sit at its base, watching as I composed myself, covering my face with my hands, though I did not cry. No one could ever see me cry. I breathed in, more of an inward sigh then actual breathing, and I looked back to the woman who still stood, stunned at my doings. I straightened myself, letting my hands leave my face, showing them dry cheeks.

"I apologize," I said quietly, looking directly at Scott. I breathed heavily, not allowing my breath to go back out just yet. "I will come with you and meet this professor only if y'all can promise me that he'll help in my revenge."

Jean looked me over carefully, judgmentally. I felt her trying to penetrate my mind, but I didn't allow her; she didn't want to see what was there. She jerked back, surprised at my power.

"We can't promise you that, Rebecca," the African woman finally said. "Only Professor Xavier can."

"All right," I replied softly. "I'll come with you to this school. I'll speak with Xavier. He seems no harm to me."

I was immediately given a picture of this man, coming from the direction of the red-head's mind. Xavier was probably a tall man, though it was hard to tell, for he was bound to a wheelchair; his legs had been debilitated somewhere along his life, though from what I could tell it was a long time ago, and nobody asked him what had happened. He had no hair, but it suited him and his gaze. His eyes were of a color I had only seen the snow drifts make in the north, and his stare would have made a bull elephant stop charging and turn away to run. He was thin despite his seemingly cramped life in a wheelchair. I could tell from a number of things, and how the red-head portrayed him in her mind, that he was a man of intelligence. His only wish was to help the mutant and human world come together peacefully, as it had been for many years running. I felt a wave of respect for him almost instantly, though these three people could not know that.

The three seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when I told them that I would come along.

"How're we gettin' there?" I asked, curious as to how they'd found me, and how fast they could travel.

"The X-jet," the African woman answered as the red-head went to help Scott up. "It seems I will be driving." She gave me a weak smile. "I am Ororo Munroe," she said. "And that is Dr. Jean Grey." She paused. "Well, you already know Scott Summers."

I nodded. "His mind's too easy to get into," I said. "He needs ta work on that, or he could be taken over easily."

Ororo's smile turned genuine. "I'll remember to tell him that," she said. I listened into her mind, hearing that this was what the professor had been telling Scott for some months now; the high-strung man had argued that he would be fine. I smirked.

My ear perked at the faint sound of howling. I turned towards it, remembering where we were. I watched as Laban struggled within himself as he began to whine, looking back and forth from the direction in which the howls resided from, back to me. His yellow eyes looked confused, and he opened his mouth as if in thought as he looked to me. He sought my advice.

"Go on," I told him, motioning him away with my hand. "You'll do better with them."

I felt three pairs of eyes upon me, but I didn't stir to their questioning gazes. I knelt down as Laban approached me, tail tucked between his legs, whining. He put his head against my out-stretched hand, looking into my cold, brown eyes with his lively yellow ones.

"You've been a good companion," I said, "no matter how short our time together. You should go with your kind now. It seems I'm already with mine."

With a last whine, then a heavy sigh, Laban turned from me, trotting off on his merry way. When he reached the top of a snow-drift, he paused and looked back to me. I smiled, and he looked back towards the howling. Throwing up his head, he let out a long, mournful return, letting the others know where he was. Happy howls were what I heard in reply to his own. I watched as Laban sprinted off, no longer limping. It was as though I was watching him as he was first discovering how to run, how his legs and feet actually worked.

"Rebecca?" Ororo asked. "We're leaving now."

I nodded, turning to follow the three retreating backs. "So how'd you manage to park a jet without anyone seein' ya?" I asked, my curiosity obvious.

"Let's just say the X-jet isn't one to be taken lightly," Scott said.

I cocked an eyebrow up at him. "Meaning?" I asked, trying to pry more information out of it.

"We could be inside a military base with the X-jet, and they wouldn't realize we were there until we were gone."

I whistled. "That's good," I said.

"Impressed?" Scott asked. "You should be."

"Uh... asshole? I think you are." I smiled at him, putting my hands behind my back as I walked. I saw out of the corner of my eye Ororo give Scott a warning look; I liked her already.


	4. My Little Animal

**Chapter Four:**

**"My Little Animal"**

**Author's Note:** Again, I own nothing, but a lot of this was taken from the book of X-Men. So if any of the lines look familiar from here on out, that's where I got them from. And if you don't like rape and/or inplication of rape, skip around this chapter a bit- only read the beginning and end. Here it goes...

The time we spent inside the jet, I was alert, though not because I felt that these people were a threat to me. I felt uneasy, as if we were being followed, but the others didn't share my discomfort, though I saw Scott rubbed his neck a few times more than what was natural. I smirked, glad that I had done that; I could tell he and I weren't going to get alone too well, at least for now.

About half-way through the flight, I got up and looked out one of the small windows. I was never comfortable with heights, and I hadn't ever flown before, but by my calm exterior, you would have never known. While I watched the ground pass at an amazing speed, I felt a little twitching inside my mind, and I whirled around, snarling.

"Get outa there," I growled, my eyes immediately going to Jean. She dropped her psychic powers as soon as I ordered, backing up slightly as she went. I glared at her from across the way; I saw Scott was beginning to stand, ready to kick some ass.

"Don't _ever_ do that again," I warned Jean, pointing a finger at her. She nodded slowly, and I looked back to the window, leaving it at that.

I heard Scott loosen his grip on the arm of the co-pilot's chair, and then sit. Jean sighed quietly, not knowing how acute my hearing was. I still fumed, though I didn't allow it to overcome me. I had learned quickly that other humans in my company don't like my temper, and I was fine with that; truth be told, I didn't like my temper, either. But it helped keep me alive in almost impossible situations, as did my pleading voice, my blank looks, and my intuition that told me when it was good to cooperate, and when to argue.

I tried to push back a memory, but it seeped through, allowing the image to play before my mind. The short man entered, again shielded by his blinding light. My sensitive eyes cowered behind my hands and squinted eyelids, but I kept a slit open to watch him.

"Hello again, Rebecca," said the smooth voice, a southern accent, Louisiana style, mixed with promises of the north showing through. I shivered visibly, pulling the lone sweater I was given tighter around me.

"What do you want?" I said, my voice hoarse, parched from thirst. They never fed or watered me at least three days in advanced of this man's arrival into my pit, my home.

He chuckled, and it only angered me. He and I both knew why he was there. "You know exactly what I want," he said, lowering his head. The light from behind him shone through his glasses, giving him a demonic look. I snapped.

With a roar, I popped my newly-obtained claws, lashing out at him. He took many steps back, calling to his guards as he went, cautious of my movements, swift and precise. Four burly men entered the pit, a small twenty by thirty foot room with padded walls, and almost no room for grip. I looked up, seeing that the ceiling was low, maybe only ten feet, but it would keep me away from the grabbing hands. I slashed out at them before jumping, making them back away.

I clambered up the walls, my fingers seeping into the cracks of the wall as though they were gaping holes in the ground. I scowled down at them from my perch, my head pressed up against the ceiling. My claws were retracted to give me a better grip, though I still looked and sounded a menacing sight, growling like the animal I learned I was. Another soft chuckle reached my perceptive ears, and goose-bumps overtook my skin.

"Rebecca, my little animal," said the voice from the doorway. I saw him shake his head, though he seemed amused. "Come down from there. You know the turn-out's inevitable."

"Fuck you!" I screamed in reply. This only made him laugh more.

"Get a dart gun, if you please," he said to one of his guards, never taking his eyes from me. "If she acts like a monster, we're ta treat her as one."

One of the smaller men disappeared through the door, and I waited, biding my time, thinking of a plan. I could take the one with the gun out first, as he entered, or I could take them out now, making _him_ run. Then I'd chase after him; it'd be like the prey was now chasing the predator, no longer strong without his muscle. But, my planning was cut short, for the guard re-entered, taking careful, yet quick, aim at me with his dart-gun, not too unlike an actual gun.

I let out another roar, bounding from the wall I was currently on just as the dart imbedded itself into the wall where my shoulder had been. I grabbed onto the ceiling, agile as a monkey in the canopy of the rainforest. Another shot and more dodging. After a number of shots, and the feeling of frustration radiating from every member of the group that stood there, I got too cocky, feeling that I was too fast for even an actual bullet. Suddenly, I felt a pain in my foot.

"AHHHH!" I cried, ripping the dart from my foot. The antidote inside of it wasn't strong, especially for someone with my abilities, but it was enough to knock me out for those few precious seconds that they needed.

When I woke, I felt the four men pressing down on me, and I went wild with rage. I succeeded in knocking off two of my captors, but the others held strong, and I felt the same burning sensation on the back of my neck. I cried out in anger and dissatisfaction. I had failed my escape once again.

Soon, I was no longer myself, but a mindless zombie. No matter how hard my psychic powers thrashed against the insides of my mind, I could not get out. Now I really knew how the ball inside the pinball machine felt, for that was what my true self was doing as the man approached me.

"This is what happens when you don't cooperate, my little animal," I heard him say under his breath. He tore my sweater and shirt off of me, but I couldn't run; the most I could do was scream inside of my mind as I slowly went crazy. He gripped me around my shoulders, but I could do nothing...

"Rebecca?"

A hand was put on my shoulder and was almost met with adamantium claws, but I stopped myself just in time. I stared, breathing heavily, into the pale eyes of Ororo. She, as well as Scott and Jean, stared at the three outstretched claws with worried confusion. I looked at them, the silver that didn't match any part of me. I let my claws retract, silently apologizing yet again for my actions.

"What happened, sweetie?" Ororo asked, trying to sound comforting; she only made things worse.

"Nothin'," I said, shrugging my flash-back off, as I always had to do when I was alone. This time, though, I couldn't cry, not in front of them. "Are we there _yet_?"

"Yes," Ororo said, nodding. "I'm going to take you to the professor while Jean sees to Scott."

I looked to the man. "Sorry, again, 'bout that," I said, trying to sound sincere.

"Don't mention it," he said. "_Really_."

I take it that meant he didn't want anyone to know that he'd been beaten up by a girl, so I nodded, trying to show him a bit of respect. After all, he was at least ten years my senior. I'd be sure to rub that in later on, and that I would never age because of my unusual power. I smirked at this thought. Obviously I truly didn't like him, not just because he was a man, or I wouldn't be thinking this far into the future.

"The professor's this way, Rebecca," Ororo said, beginning to exit the jet. I followed her, and Scott and Jean came after us, Scott limping. I snickered inaudibly. Jean and Scott took a different hallway from Ororo and I, and I watched as they disappeared down the seemingly endless hall.


	5. The Meeting

**Chapter Five:**

**The Meeting**

**Author's Note:** Nothing is owned by me except Rebecca. Anyways... here's the interesting part, kids. Enjoy. (Drama rama will ensue after this, of course- cause let's face it, we all love drama in stories).

After being led through a winding corridor that was most noticeably underground, I began to get worried, until I saw an elevator up ahead. This made me breathe a silent sigh of relief, though I don't know why. Being underground made me feel uneasy. A pressed button, and the elevator appeared through sliding doors. We stepped on, and I felt uneasy yet again in such a small space with other people. Coming back into society would take some getting used to again.

"Don't worry," Ororo said, somehow sensing my nervousness. "The professor is a caring man, he doesn't judge as some do."

I nodded, not knowing how to reply, for once, to what has been spoken to me. We remained in silence as the elevator traveled up, then came to a halt, neither abrupt nor announced. The doors opened, and we stepped out onto the landing of yet another hall. This one, though, was more elaborately planned, as if it expected guests, anticipated them, and welcomed them. Dark browns and reds lined the hall in the woods and carpet and rugs; tapestries hung upon the walls, a dark cream color, contrasting with the dark wood that lined the floors and ceilings. It felt warm, and for once, I felt as though I belonged somewhere.

"Follow me," Ororo said, smiling, and led me down the hall.

I did as I was told, respecting this woman. She seemed to know the ridicule I suffered, but out of my immediate respect for her, I kept out of her mind. Soon, we were standing before a large door, an office of some sort. Ororo stopped, motioning for me to continue.

"Professor Xavier is waiting inside for you," she said. "Go on ahead."

I nodded, puffing out my chest, showing no fear as I entered. I closed the door behind me, looking up to meet the soft ocean eyes of an aged man in a wheelchair. He wore a smile that would corrode even the toughest and long-lasting of boulders, but my face did not change from its monotone appearance.

"Welcome, Rebecca," he said, a deep English accent ringing clear within my eyes. I nodded. "Thank you for coming on such short notice; I expect my staff did not frighten you?"

"Not a bit," I replied. He chuckled, but it didn't make me shiver.

"I thought not," he said, the laugh still within his voice. "You are a very strong young woman. That's why I thought it best to find you, to inquire about a proposition."

I was amazed. This guy didn't think I was stupid. Everyone else used simple language with me, but he... He used actual _words_ that I could relate to. I'm afraid I let my happiness show through in a small smile.

"And that proposition would be...?" I asked, trying not to sound as interested as I really was.

"I think it best that you live here, in my school," he began. He held up a hand, as if knowing I would object; actually, I was about to, but I had stopped with the movement of his hand, so apparently it worked. "I know this may sound strange to you, but allow me to explain." He took in a deep breath, as if preparing for a long story. "I began this school in hopes of helping other mutants, mostly children; they were my target. Why? Because many newly-found mutants don't know what to do with themselves. They're scared, on the run, with no food, shelter, or education. No one will take them in, most likely, if they're discovered to be what they truly are.

"The reason I wish for you to live here is because I have heard of your dealings with a certain man," Xavier continued. "One who does experimentations on mutants." He paused when he saw me begin to tense. "I want you to know that you're not alone in the dealings of this man," he said in a softer tone. "There is one other like you."

"Who?" I asked immediately. "Do you know the experimenter's name? Where does he live?"

Xavier sighed heavily. "That I cannot tell you," he said sadly. "I know nothing of this man, only that he provides what he calls 'a service' to parents of newly-formed mutant children. You were one of the first that he took in. After you, he disappeared."

"But you said there was another," I argued, stepping closer to him. "What about him? Or is it a woman?"

"No, it's a man," Xavier said. "He was the first. I can only imagine that you were a follow-up experiment, to see if it could be done again, and apparently it can. This man, the one who is like you, is named Logan, or Wolverine, as he likes to be called. I have located him, but he travels quickly for someone who does not have the ability of teleportation or flight, such as yourself." He paused.

"That brings me to another point," he continued, rolling forward a bit in his wheelchair, as if to look at me closer. "You are a very special type of mutant, one, in all of my years, I have never encountered before." He stopped himself yet again, considering me, putting a hand on his chin in thought. "How many powers have you developed since you first discovered you were a mutant?"

"Twelve," I answered. "Would you like me to name them?" He nodded, the considering look not leaving his eyes. "I have the healing factor, first off. Then the excellent hearing, sight, and smelling abilities, not to mention that I have inhuman strength... I have telepathy and telekinesis skills. I can control and make fire and ice... I can teleport, and change my appearance and voice, so I guess that makes me a shape shifter. I'm really good at memorizing things, like I'll open the page of a book, look at it, and it's memorized. I'm also really good with languages. Gimme a book on it, or just let me hear someone speak it, and I automatically learn tha language. I dunno what you'd call that, though. And I think I have the ability to talk to animals... but not really talk to them. They understand me, but I don't really change the way I speak or anything... So I guess that'd make it twelve, huh?"

"Yes, it would," said Xavier. He sat up, looking me directly in the eye. "I'd like to run some tests, but much later, if that is all right with you. I'd like to learn more about what is going on in your mind that is making you so different from any other mutants."

I nodded. "That'll be fine," I said. "But you still haven't convinced me to stay here." I smiled.

"Of course... Well, if it does change your mind any, there is a rather powerful mutant on the run who doesn't have quite the sympathy for the human race as I. His name is Eric Lehnsherr, or Magneto, and he is the controller of all things metal. He wants you to join his forces, for he knows you do not favor the human kind very much anymore."

I paused. "You know him, don't cha?"

"I do," replied Xavier. "He and I met when we were both much younger; don't ask me to recall how many years ago it was. He introduced me to other people like he and I, though he has a much different outlook on the human race than I do."

"Ah, a peculiar friendship."

"Quite."

"So... he's tha bad guy?" I asked.

"In more than one way, yes." He folded his hands in his lap. "I can offer you safety here. I know the police are after you in Florida, and I have heard your name more than once on the news here, as well. I can keep you out of prison, offer you a job, or even more of an education here at my school, if you'd like. We have the correct licensing to help you get your high school diploma. I know that opportunity was taken away from you not too long ago."

I paused. "Well, it seems everything's pointin' for me ta stay here, huh?" I said, shifting the bag on my shoulder to a more comfortable position.

"I don't keep anyone here against their will, Rebecca," Xavier said, raising his hands from his lap. "If you choose to stay, you may stay, but if you wish to face Magneto and the police, by all means, go right ahead."

My smile turned genuine. "You're speakin' my language now, professor," I said. "I do believe you just threw some sarcasm my way."

Again, he chuckled, though it was louder and longer. "I was only stating your options, Rebecca," he said. "You may choose whatever you feel is best for you."

I thought about this for a moment. This guy, this professor, was placing everything that I'd ever wanted these past two (almost three) years right at my fingertips. And now, I learn, that I had an especially dangerous mutant after me as well as the police, and, it seemed, the United States government, if even New York had heard of me, it seemed I had no other choice.

"I'll stay," I said.

His smile widened. "Good. That's what I wanted to hear." He began rolling past me and towards the door. "I'll show you to your room; you've had a trying night."

"Yeah, trying," I said, rolling my eyes. "How 'bout we try confusin'..."

"Which brings me to my other question," Xavier said. "I'm aware that you were a writer at your high school. Would you be willing to teach a few students the finer points of creative writing? You don't have to answer now, but mill it over for a while. It may prove to be worth your time while you're here."

I stopped, a bit shocked at his bluntness. "Yeah, I'll definitely have to think about that," I told him.

He nodded, and I followed him down the hall in silence. My eyes wandered from the path in front of me, taking in everything I could about this place. It was most obviously a mansion; I could hear the sound of people snoring or turning over in their sleep in the early hours of the morning stories up. I knew there were at least four stories in this building, if not more.

Xavier led me down the hall so far, I was wondering when it would end. But, we finally came to a grand staircase, and I saw the color scheme extended up the stairs. The professor went around these stairs, and towards the underside. I followed, curious. Another elevator door slid open, and Xavier rolled in; I followed behind him.

"You will be staying across the hall from Ororo, Scott, and Jean," he explained to me. "I'm downstairs, if you need anything."

I nodded, showing that I understood. "What time is it?" I asked suddenly.

Xavier closed his eyes, then reopened them a moment later. "It's about five-thirty," he answered. More silence, and the doors opened, and he moved out and away. I was close on his heels, feeling very much like a dog as I followed him.

"While I'm here and have your attention," Xavier said, keeping his voice low in the hall. "I should probably explain the rules of the house." He looked over his shoulder at me, and I watched him carefully. "There are children ranging in age from eight to eighteen here, and some who are too deformed in their mutations to be able to go to college in the human world, so there are some as old as twenty or twenty-four here, as well. As such, I would advise you to keep cursing to a minimum."

"Understood," I said. "Kids are good. I like kids."

"I thought you might," Xavier said, smiling. "Another thing, no alcohol for you, although I know you've already had some during your life. It's for people twenty-one and older, Rebecca, remember this. And do try not to enter anyone's minds- they aren't used to anyone else besides me in there, and some may hold a grudge against anyone else who enters."

"Ah, so this is how you use your telepathy skills, huh?" I asked, smirking, looking at each door as we passed it.

He chuckled slightly, beginning to slow. "No," he answered. "That's why I have Cerebro." He stopped in front of a wooden door.

"What's a Cerebro?" I asked, holding onto my bag, as I had been since I got on the jet.

"A machine that I use," he answered simply, reaching out for the knob on the door. He turned it, and the door all but sprung open. He went inside, and I followed him still, unsure of what else to do.

"A machine?" I asked, trying to get more information.

"Cerebro allows me to be connected to every mind on the planet, mutant and human alike," he said.

"Oh, yeah, I 'member," I said, nodding. "Ororo told me about it. Sounds like a cool machine. Think I might be able to use it one day?"

"I am only to use it because my skills are exceptionally high," Xavier said. "Jean, one of my first students, has been studying with me for almost fifteen years, and I still believe she is nowhere near the ability which is required of someone in order to run Cerebro."

"So that's a maybe, eh?" I asked, trying to be a smart-ass.

"Yes," he replied to my surprise. "A rather large maybe."

I looked around the room, seeing a large queen bed with cream and red sheets, pillows, and burgundy carpet. There was a low dresser over on the other side of the room underneath a window set high up in the room. The blinds and curtains were drawn over the window, as I guessed most were at night. A desk was in front of the bed, a chair placed carefully underneath it. A small nightstand with a lamp sat next to the bed. All had the same dark stain on them, and clawed feet. I felt like I was in an English castle at some points in this mansion.

"Any other rules I should remember?" I asked.

"Report to only me at this time," Xavier said. "And don't allow Scott to push you around; I heard he isn't very fond of you." He smiled softly.

"Whatever gave you _that_ idea?"

Xavier tapped his head, still smiling as he turned about to exit the room. "This is your room now," he told me from over his shoulder. "You may do with it what you wish."

"What 'm I s'pose ta do when everyone wakes up?" I asked. "Am I s'pose to just go down to tha kitchen an' introduce myself?" I laughed at that thought.

Xavier turned to face me. "Yes," he said. "You didn't think I was going to make you be led around this whole time. Though if you have any questions, do come see me. The other students, or even a teacher, may lead you astray."

"Boy, Scott really doesn't like me, does he?"

Xavier shook his head, turning again. "Ororo and Jean agreed to take you into the town a few miles from here in the morning," he said. "To buy whatever items you may need. And don't worry about paying for it, we'll have it covered."

The door shut behind him. "Thanks," I said to the door.

_You're welcome_, I heard in my mind, making me jump. Then, I realized the voice belonged to Xavier, and I relaxed, remembering he was a telepath.

_This is how he'll always talk to us from across the house,_ I thought, putting my bag down on the bed with a sigh. I turned around, and saw something move. I froze, looking carefully at the thing. I stopped, dropping my hands to my side. It was my reflection in the mirror.

"Ugh," I said, going over to it and prying it off of the wall. I placed it, mirror side down, leaning against the wall. I didn't like mirrors.


	6. The Kids

**Chapter Six:**

**THE KIDS**

**(I own NOTHING.)**

At about seven, I heard some commotion begin from the halls. It sounded like students were getting ready. I had forgotten to ask what day it was, but I would soon find out. I was starving, but had waited to go downstairs until I was sure someone else was there. I crept out of my room, checking the halls before I made my way back to the stairs, my perfect memory guiding me to where I wanted to go.

When I reached the kitchen, there were already a few students, most younger than me, only a few my age, seated around a large table. I looked over to where the smell of bacon was traveling from, and saw Scott standing in front of the stove, flipping the bacon with some prongs. I smiled.

"Mornin'," I said. He turned around to see who it was, then sighed, turning back to the bacon. A number of the students glanced up at me, including two boys who might be just a year or two younger than me: one had blondish-brown hair and icy blue eyes, while the other was plain all the way around, dark brown hair and brown eyes, though I thought I saw a twinge of red in them. All looked at me curiously, and I felt their questions pressing on my mind, though I even kept them back.

"Hi," said the boy with the icy eyes, putting on a huge smile for me. "I'm Bobby. You must be the new girl they said they'd be bringing in last night." I nodded curtly, not sure whether to trust this boy, even though I was positive he was younger than me.

"Nice to meet you," said the other boy, his grin widening as he pushed Bobby out of the way. "Name's John, but you can call me Pyro."

He flipped open a lighter, allowing a flame to flicker up. He held out his hand, and the fire leapt into it. He stowed the lighter in his pocket, then put his other hand over the one carrying the flame. I watched him with amused interest. When he pulled his second hand away, the flame shot out, going near my shoulder and lighting two candles that stood one in front of the other.

I looked back to him, arms crossed over my chest. He smiled, seeing that he had my attention. I smiled back, though mine was forced. I held my hand open from under one of my arms, and the flame went obediently to it. John stared, gaping mouthed at me, as I smothered the fire by closing my hand, re-opening it to show him.

"An' I'm not impressed," I announced; I heard Bobby snicker. John tried to laugh it off, but only succeeded in making himself look stupider in my eyes.

"So, 'not impressed'," he said, trying to sound smooth. "What're you in for?"

"Murder," I answered without missing a beat.

John stopped himself, and most of the kitchen stared at me, including Scott. Obviously they had not been warned of my previous life. I cleared my throat.

"I'm Rebecca," I said finally, after the silence became too bearable.

"Rebecca," Bobby repeated. "Welcome." His smile seemed genuine. Maybe this was a boy worthy of my conversation; I'd have to see.

The kitchen went back to what it had been doing, and Bobby and John sat back down, John wary of me now instead of flirting. That was how I liked it. I started to take a seat at the counter, but Bobby called me over.

"There's plenty of room over here," he said. "Don't be shy."

I scoffed, but went anyway. Xavier said I needed to mingle, though he didn't actually speak those words, I knew it's what he meant when he said I needed to introduce myself. He was trying to get me back to my normal self, and though I highly doubted it, I felt more at ease in this mansion already.

"So, Rebecca," Bobby said, leaning over his bowl of cereal, "when'd you get in?"

"'Bout five, I s'pose," I said, allowing my accent to come out.

"A Southerner, I see," Bobby noted. I nodded. "Where from?"

"Georgia, originally," I answered, still leaving my arms crossed over my chest, "but I lived in Florida for most a my life."

"That explains why it's muffled a bit," he said, pointing his spoon at me. He saw that I ate nothing, and rose suddenly, going over to a cabinet and getting a bowl, setting it down in front of me. I watched him with a raised eyebrow; I wasn't used to this sort of courtesy. He then handed me a box of cereal. "Want some?"

I took it from him, careful to make sure I didn't touch him, and I poured myself a bowl, asking a smaller student at the other end of the table to pass the milk.

"Did-" John stammered, still a little freaked out. "Did you really kill someone?"

I looked up at him, a mouthful of cereal still being ground by my teeth. I swallowed, nodding. "Not just one," I said. "At least eight." I smiled, going back to my cereal. Bobby laughed.

"No, seriously," he said. "You really killed someone?"

I looked back up. "I wouldn't lie to ya, kid."

"How old _are_ you?" Bobby asked, leaning forward, using his arms to support him on the table.

"Almost twenty," I said. "Well... What's today?"

"January twentieth," Bobby answered. "Monday."

"Yeah, I'll be twenty in two months," I said, scooping another bite of cereal into my mouth. "Why?"

"Just wondering..." He paused, looking me over. I sensed he wanted to change the subject. "So... you've got fire-power, like John?"

I nodded. "Sometimes." I liked to keep them on their toes.

"Sometimes?" John asked, scoffing. "What d'you mean by that?"

"I've got other powers, too, and they sorta alternate, I guess you can say," I said, always needing to spell it out for this guy.

"Really?" he asked, becoming interested again. "What other powers do you have?"

"All kinds," I said.

"Please, continue."

I set my spoon down, sitting straight up in my chair. I loomed over him, even though I was feet away from him. He suddenly wasn't so cocky anymore.

"Let's just say I'm a mutant you've never come across before, John," I said, putting a fake smile onto my face just to freak him out some more. John nodded, going back to the bacon, which had been placed on a platter and was now being served to everyone at the table.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and glanced up to see Scott. "Could I see you outside for a minute?" he asked, and I imagined he was glowering at me from behind his sunglasses.

"Xavier said I wasn't s'pose ta answer ta anyone but him for now," I said, calmly putting some bacon onto a plate I had been given by another student.

"You're not answering to me, we're just gonna talk," he said.

"Can it wait, Summers?" I asked. "I've just gotten in from months on my own without a decent meal in that time-frame and I'd like to eat some breakfast. D'ya mind?"

I gave him an annoyed look, and the kitchen went silent. He leaned over, one hand on the edge of the table, another on the back of my chair.

"See me after you finish," he growled.

"Back off, Cyclops," I snarled back at him.

"I didn't think you were smart enough to figure out my nick-name, girly," he said, smirking. I began to stand, forgetting about everything around me, including the young kids.

Scott stood suddenly, as if being ordered to, and I sensed an immediate change in his facial expression. I smirked; Xavier would deal with him now. I went back to my food, sitting calmly as if nothing had happened as Scott left the kitchen.

"Later!" he called back to me in what I supposed was a menacing tone.

I waved at the closing door with twiddling fingers, smiling all the way until it closed shut. I ate my bacon hungrily, forgetting how good a warm breakfast tasted.

"Well, apparently you've already met Scott," Bobby said.

"Yeah, he, Jean and Ororo picked me up last night," I said.

"Where were you?"

"Somewhere near Canada, I think," I said, stopping to think about it. I shrugged, finally. "A good question, actually."

"Where were you running to?"

"Dunno. I was just goin'. I had a wolf with me for a few days, but he went off when they came."

"A wolf?" John asked, not seeming to believe me. "How did you get a wolf to follow you?"

"I didn't _get_ him ta follow me," I said. "He just did." I stirred my cereal, realizing how stupid I sounded.

"What? You're gonna tell us that you've got the skill to talk to animals now?"

"Actually, I do. That's one of my many talents." I grinned snidely. "You should see me when I'm mad, _Pyro_. Then you'll know what a caged animal _really_ looks like." I turned back to my food, leaving John in silence for the rest of the time.

The door to the kitchen opened again, and I looked up, seeing Ororo entering with a smile face. "Are you ready to go?" she asked.

I stood, taking my bowl up to the sink and rinsing it out. Bobby leapt to do the job for me.

"Here, let me," he said, grinning, taking the bowl from me and running it under the water.

"Thanks," I said, a bit apprehensive, but I was glad someone else was doing the work for me. I turned and went after Ororo.

"Well, it seems Jean can't make it with us," she told me. "She and Scott are having a little talk with the professor."

"About me?" I asked, not really interested.

"Yes."

"Thought as much. I think I pissed him off again this morning."

"Scott just doesn't like anyone who he thinks is a threat," Ororo explained casually.

"Whoa, hold on a minute. I'm a threat?"

"To his strength. You're more powerful than he is, Rebecca, and he knows that, he's just not ready to admit it to himself."

That made me smile. "Ah, yes, the manly ego." I rolled my eyes.

Ororo chuckled. "Yes, well, you get used to them here," she said. "If you haven't noticed by now, the men outnumber the women here."

I cringed. "Wonderful."

"Most are boys, though," she added, sensing my change of attitude. "But it seems you've already made some friends, Bobby and John." I grunted. "John is a bit..."

"Hormonal?"

"Yes, I guess you could say that."

I nodded. "I think I will."


	7. Did Someone Say Shopping?

**Chapter Seven:**

**DID SOMEONE SAY SHOPPING?**

**OR**

**THE FIRST DANGER ROOM CHALLENGE**

**(I own NOTHING.)  
**

We spent a good while in the small town, at least until a little before lunch time. I had to change my appearance, at least my face, because I knew there would be people on the look-out for me. Ororo kept trying to reassure me that it wasn't necessary, but I was taking no chances. I kept my same body type so as to get the right clothes, and I succeeded in finding a shop that was almost made for me.

Ororo and I returned to the mansion with five bags of clothes: one full of pants, one with undergarments, two with shirts, and one with other things like shampoo and a toothbrush that I would need. Ororo had told me that the professor had said for me to not worry about the expenses; he would take care of everything. I knew I was in this man's debt, but from the way that he was acting, he made it seem like he would do this for any stranger.

Later, after I'd showered, put on my new and baggy clothes, and eaten, I was called down by Xavier. I wondered at this as I rounded the corner, almost running into Jean.

"Oh, Rebecca, it's just you," she said, putting a hand to her heart. "I was actually looking for you. I'm supposed to lead you down to the Danger Room."

"The Danger Room?" I asked skeptically. "What is this, some kinda action movie?"

"Not quite," Jean said, putting on her good humor smile. "Come on, it's this way."

As she led me down the great staircase that was in the middle of the school, Jean explained that the Danger Room was the training center for all of the students inside the school walls. She said that a few other kids would be there training with me, but they practiced in groups only because it made them want to learn and try harder.

"Ah, the competition factor," I said, nodding. "Smart man, Xavier is."

"Very smart," Jean added, giving me a look over her shoulder.

"So, he's a professor, right?" I asked, shrugging. "What did he major in?"

"English and psychology, I believe," she answered without missing a beat. "He also taught for a while at a number of universities before he actually started up his own school."

I nodded. "So, the older or younger kids gonna be in the Danger Room with us?"

"Older. The younger children go in the morning and have their classes in the afternoon."

"Older kids have classes in the morning, and they go in the afternoon, got cha," I said, finishing her thought.

"The professor thought you'd have an easier time with the older kids," Jean told me. "They've had more time to develop their powers."

"Scott gonna be there?"

"Yes," Jean said. "As will the professor and myself. Ororo is handling the younger children in her class right now, science. Then she switches with me, and I go teach the students."

"And what do you teach?"

"Math classes, mostly, and some sciences, but to the older kids."

"What? Anatomy? You are a doctor, if I recall."

"I am. And yes, anatomy is one science class. Ororo handles most of the others, and the professor teaches English and obviously psychology. Scott teaches history and auto shop."

"Interesting combination."

Jean nodded, leading me all the way down the hall and towards the elevator. We took it all the way to the bottom floor, where I had been the night before. I didn't like the underground place still, and it felt as though I was being pressed on all sides by the air growing stiffer, but I ignored it, not allowing myself to show weakness. In silence, Jean and I walked briskly down the white halls, turning left, then right, then another left, and going straight until we came to a large door.

Jean placed her hand upon the pad next to the door, and it was scanned by a bright red light. The sound of air being pushed out of a container, and the large door began to slide open. I stood back, watching carefully as those who were already in the room looked out at us. Among the faces were Bobby and John, and a few others I didn't know, but recognized from that morning.

"Ah, the last arrival," Xavier said, smiling as he saw Jean and I step inside the large room. The door shut behind us, making the same air escaping sound as it did before. My senses were on high alert here.

"Welcome," said Xavier, "to the Danger Room. Let me introduce you to some of the other students. I'm aware that you already know Bobby and John." The boys nodded to me, John more curtly than he probably should have; I took note of that.

"This is Jubilee, and Kitty," Xavier continued, motioning to a Hispanic girl with black hair and a white girl with dark brown hair. "And Tracy." A white girl with blonde hair, maybe only a year younger than Kitty and Jubilee, who looked about fifteen or sixteen. "And finally, Peter and Jamie." Two boys, one older who was taller, and more built than the other scrawny kid. Both had brown hair and blue eyes. "Peter is one of the students here for college."

The bulkier boy nodded. "A pleasure to meet you," he said, a Russian accent in his voice.

I nodded. "My name is Rebecca," I replied. "And the pleasure is mine, I'm sure." I was stared at by the students, and Peter smiled.

"Ah, so you speak Russian as well?" he asked. "It's good to have someone to communicate with finally."

"Yes, Russian," I said. "Along with many other languages." I nodded curtly, turning back to the crowd of kids before me. "Hi, I'm Rebecca," I said in English.

They offered "hellos" and nods and John with his regular smirk. This kid thought he was hot stuff. I'd have to show him his rightful place, or he'd start to get on my nerves.

"Now," Xavier said, wheeling over to the crowd of students. "We will begin with a small showing of your powers, so Rebecca doesn't feel entirely lost."

"That won't be necessary, Professor," I said with as much politeness as I could muster up. "I like surprises."

"All right, then," Xavier said. "We'll start with training simulation number eleven. The mansion is under attack by an unknown force. They are armed and very dangerous. It is unknown to you whether they are mutant or not. You must work together to escape their clutches, and get out of the mansion alive. Are you all ready?"

A nod, almost as one, came from the crowd of students. I followed suit, and the adults stepped out of the room. Suddenly, a vision of the mansion came into view, and though I knew it to be totally computer animated or something of the like, I was truly impressed. Suddenly, a bullet raced past my ear, and I slapped a hand over it, growling from the loud noise.

"They're attacking from behind!" I yelled, motioning for everyone to move forward.

We ran as a group and dashed around a corner. We put our backs against the wall, steadying our breathing.

"All right," I said quietly, beginning to take control. "Who's got any sort of resistance against bullets?"

"I do," said Peter, stepping forward. Suddenly, his body was covered in a heavy metal. I smiled.

"Good," I said, nodding. "Anyone else?" No reply. "All right, then. Peter and I are gonna go check out where they're comin' from. Bobby, I want you to lead this group... towards the staircase, the big one. We'll meet up there in ten minutes. If you run into anyone, feel free ta kill 'em."

Bobby nodded, not resenting that I took the lead. John seemed skeptical, but I knew from the look on his face that he was glad he didn't have to come with me. I waved a hand at Peter, and he followed me back around the corner.

"Keep that armor up," I told him in Russian.

"What about you?"

"I've gotta healing factor, they can't kill me even if they wanted to," I answered. I stopped him by putting a hand behind me; he ran into it with his stomach.

"What?"

"Shh!" I waited, listening. I could hear faint mutterings in English. "We've got company," I said a moment later, my lips barely parting as I spoke.

A sudden jolt sent my mind racing, and I turned around, running back from where we had come from.

"What!" Peter said, turning tail and following. "What happened?"

"Somethin' happened ta the other group already," I growled. "Honestly, kids can't take care a themselves fer two seconds."

As soon as the image of the school had appeared, it went away. "Good work, all," I heard Scott's voice ring throughout the room. "Thanks to your self-appointed captain, Rebecca, it seems as though you have all been killed."

I growled under my breath. This guy was really getting on my nerves.

"Look, ya can't blame me fer them not bein' able ta fight off guys with _guns_!" I cried, looking around the room for Scott.

"No, but you immediately took charge of the students," Scott said, appearing beside me. This was a hologram being projected from somewhere outside of the room. I glared at it. "And though I applaud you on your efforts to try and make things work, a good leader never leaves those behind who are weaker than they are."

"Are ya sayin' that they're weak?" I asked, putting my hands on their hips. "'Cause they aren't. I can tell just from lookin' at 'em."

"How long have you known your team for, Rebecca? Five seconds?" hologram Scott asked. "That's not enough time to assess what they're capable of. You must always assume that the people you're leading are weaker than you are, and you left them without any defenses!"

"Ya know what; stop hidin' behind that damn hologram!" I shouted at the image of Scott. The image stared at me for a moment, then turned away, disappearing.

I whirled around as the door opened and Scott walked inside the room. The students and Peter watched as Scott approached me, back straight. I could almost see the hairs on the back of his neck bristling with fury. I stood ready to meet him, though I was a good three or four inches shorter than he. He stopped just inches before me, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him.

"I really don't like you," he growled.

"Really?" I said. "I thought our relationship was all roses and daises."

"Well I don't necessarily like people who when they first see me try to choke me to death."

"I don't take kindly to strangers who sneak up on me in the middle of the night. That, and you were a guy, I had a right ta be suspicious."

"Is that you're excuse for everything? It's 'cause I'm a guy. He's a guy!" He raised his hand toward Peter. "He's a guy!" Bobby. "The professor's a guy. Why don't you have a problem with them? You can't use your excuse now."

I looked him up and down. "I'd say what I really thought of you, but I know it would hurt your oh-so-powerful manly ego."

"Try me."

I smirked; he asked for it.

"Not only did I have the _right_ to attack ya when ya first came, ya had no right to act like this toward me ever since I spoke to ya, even after I apologized," I began, not taking a breath; I would not allow him a word in this conversation. "Ya constantly are condensatin' towards me, using simple words like I have the mental capacity of a four-year-old. I don't take kindly to that. Ya treat me like I'm some sorta inferior and I'm s'pose ta follow yer every beck an' call, an' I don't work like that, buddy. I'm s'pose ta answer ta Professor Xavier an' Professor Xavier only till he says otherwise, an' so far, he hasn't said otherwise.

"I don't appreciate ya comin' up in my personal space and tellin' me what I'm gonna do, and having yer sorry attempts at humiliatin' me in order to make ya seem better than me. Ya know I'm more powerful than ya, an' it's a scary thought, huh, Summers? A _girl_ ten years younger than ya has more power than you'll ever hope to have.

"An' what also scares ya is the fact that I'm considered highly dangerous, an' ya feel I can't be left alone with tha kids at this school, no matter how old they are, because I might be a bad example to 'em. Well lemme tell ya somethin', I was being raped by a crazed maniac whose name I can't even fucking remember for two years! Two years of my goddamned life! He stole that away from me, an' I don't wanna haveta put up with assholes like you afterwards, so excuse me if I don't hold tha damn door open for ya!"

By this time, I was red in the face and breathing hard. I hadn't noticed, but I had raised myself up onto my toes, bringing my eyes up to his level. The space between us had grown smaller, and Scott had had to lean back slightly as I had come nearer. The red in his visor flickered, and I could see through the crystal that he had blinked.

"An' I don't need my telepathy ta tell me that!" I shouted at him as an after-thought.

"Wow," I heard behind me. It was John, being a smart-ass as usual.

Scott blinked at me for a few more moments. "Okay," he said calmly. "Welcome to your new home." He held out his hand.

"What?" I asked, slightly confused.

"I'm trying to make a better example of myself to the kids," he said, holding his hand out further towards me. "I'm sorry. Welcome to the school."

I took his hand carefully and shook it. He gave me a smile, then turned on his heel and began to leave. "Let's try that simulation again, people!" he called over his shoulder, and the doors shut behind him.

I returned to the group; all were staring at me with curious eyes, but they had no time to ask questions. The simulated mansion appeared again, and another bullet grazed my ear.

"All right, guys," I said, pushing them forward. "We're gonna do this tha right way this time."

I led them behind a corner, going carefully as I went. I had Peter bringing up the rear, ready to alert me with a cry if something happened. Bobby was in the middle, watching carefully as we crept along, sliding along the wall silently. I began to regret allowing John to walk behind me; he kept stepping on my feet, and trying to be smart by coughing or sneezing. Finally, I whirled on him, holding my fist just a centimeter from his nose. He stopped dead in his tracks.

_We're tryin' ta escape, ya little prick,_ I sent into his mind. His face contorted into a look of confusion, but he held still, and the line was held up. _So just shut up, an' stop steppin' on my damn foot. I will not be sorry ta let ya go to the bullet, simulated or not._

He swallowed and nodded quietly, and I turned around and started back up again. I reminded Bobby again by reaching out to him with my mind if I got held back that he was to lead the group to safety. We had worked out the best escape route earlier in the simulation, and now we were moving swiftly towards the stairs that would lead us towards the lower portions of the mansion and to the garage, where we would escape by cars to meet up at the shopping mall twenty minutes later. Of course, I didn't expect the simulation to go that far, but I thought it would be a nice touch.

I stopped before we rounded another corner, allowing my senses to guide me. John ran into me, obviously not paying attention to what he was doing, and I was jolted out into the open. Suddenly, ten lights were upon me, and I stood still, knowing that it wouldn't help.

_Go, Bobby! _I cried to him through my mind. I heard him beginning to lead the others a different way.

I stood straight, glaring at the intruders. They kept their lights trained on me, but I could see they held pretty powerful semi-automatic weapons.

"Get her," the one in charge said. "Bring her back alive."

The ones holding the lights came to me, all ten of them. I stood, waiting for them to get closer. Then, with my easy reaction, I drew back my hand, spreading a sheet of ice over my attackers. They screamed when it reached their feet, feeling how cold it was, but stopped as it reached their mouths, unable to shriek any longer. The one in charge dropped his weapon and began to run. I went after him, quickly catching up with him down the hall. I slammed him into a wall.

"Here's what yer gonna do fer me, pal," I said, growling at the figure that I held between my fingers, though I knew he was not there. "Yer gonna call off tha rest a yer goons an' let me an' tha rest a my friends go free. All right?" I shook him slightly to get a faster response.

"Yes! Yes! Okay!" he cried, reaching for his walkie-talkie. "All units, retreat now! This is not a joke, get outa here!"

"Good boy," I said, throwing him as far down the hall as I could. He scrambled to regain his footing and ran down the hall.

"Nicely handled, all!" came the professor's voice over the unseen speaker. The illusion faded away, and I was able to see Bobby and the group waiting across the room. I smiled despite myself, and watched as the door opened again.


	8. Opening Up A Little

At dinner that night, the kids who were with me in the Danger Room surrounded me at the table as I ate quietly. I looked up, chewing my hot dog with a closed mouth. I swallowed.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"What you said to Scott today," the girl I recognized as Kitty began, "about being... raped... Was that true?" I nodded; she gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God, that's terrible. I'm sorry!"

"Kitty, shut up, chica," the Hispanic girl said, hitting Kitty lightly on her arm.

_Jubilee_, I remembered.

"That's not what I meant, I—Oh..."

"S'all right, Kitty, I know what cha mean," I said, taking another bite of my hot dog.

"What else is there to know about you?" Peter asked. "You're very secretive."

"Why're y'all so curious?"

"Because you won't tell us anything," Bobby said. "We wanna be your friends, Rebecca."

I paused, looking at them all. "Call me Felan."

"What's that, some sorta nick-name?" John asked, turning his chair around so he could put his arms up on the back. He sat down quickly.

"Sorta," I replied. "It's my last name, but it means, 'young wolf.'"

"Again with the depressive attitude," John sighed, shaking his head.

"Hey, yer tha ones that wanted ta know," I said, acting like I was gonna leave.

"No, no!" Jubilee said, taking my arm in her hand and trying to get me to sit back down. "Don't listen to John; he's just trying to be stupid."

"Well he doesn't really haveta try," I said. "It just sorta comes naturally, don't it, John?"

John huffed, setting his chin on his arms. The others laughed as I sat back down.

"So, what do y'all wanna know?" I asked.

"Well, you said you don't remember the guy's name," Kitty started; obviously she was the bold one of the group. "What happened, exactly?"

"My parents didn't wanna mutant as a daughter, an' this guy had heard about me through tha grapevine. Well, he called on my parents one day, told 'em he could take me off their hands. He even paid 'em for me. He took me up an' ran experiments on me, and here I am." I crossed my arms as I told my story, telling it in a tedious voice, sounding as though I didn't really care otherwise; I didn't want to evoke sympathy from these kids.

"What happened?" Jamie asked, becoming more interested. I had identified him as the quiet one of the group, and getting him to speak was an effort in itself. "I mean... What did he do to you?"

"He gave me claws," I told him, looking him directly in the eye. "An' he said I was an animal. So, over tha course of tha two years I was with him, I became the animal."

"Oh," John said. "That explains the obsessive-ness." There was a pregnant silence, which everyone but me seemed uncomfortable with. "So, those claws... Can ya show 'em to us?"

"I'd rather not," I said, meeting his eye.

"Why's that?"

"It's kinda like watching knives come outa someone's knuckles," I said. "I only use 'em when I need ta fight someone bigger than me, or I wanna end a fight quickly."

"Aw, c'mon," John continued, scooting his chair closer to mine. "Just this once."

I stared at him for a long time. "Lemme put it to ya in a way you can understand a little better," I said slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. "Say you were kept somewhere against yer will for two years. Yer confused, angry, and not yerself anymore. Yer changin' fer tha worse, an' there's nothin' ya can do ta stop it. Some guy comes in and gives ya metal, an' he runs it all through yer body, gives ya some that'll even pop outa yer hand at yer command. Then this guy comes in afterwards and takes what he wants from ya, whatever the hell he wants. Ya start thinkin' twice about how cool these new metal claws ya got are. 'Cause then, every time yer asked ta pop 'em out ta show off, they remind ya of every time tha guy came in there ta have his way with ya."

I paused staring long and hard at him. "Does that put things inta perspective for ya, Johnny-boy?"

He nodded slowly, but did not move away, which surprised me, because I saw the fear in his eyes. I went back to my food, and the others were silent for a long while. Finally, Bobby got up the nerve to speak again.

"So, how long are you staying here?"

"Seems like I'm here ta stay, kid," I said, looking up. "Xavier offered me a job teachin'."

"What?" Jubilee asked.

"Creative Writing," I said. "I went to a high school for the arts before I was... transformed. Creative Writer, that was me."

"Well, that'll be cool," Kitty said. "You'll be able to teach _us_, I guess."

"Sometime." I thought about it for a moment. "Maybe."


	9. A Mission

I was there a week at the institute, and it was beginning to feel a little more like home everyday. I felt myself changing, but for the better. I was slowly going back to my own self, and I enjoyed it. I started growing closer with the other kids who were only a little younger than myself, especially the ones who were with me on that first day in the Danger Room. John had calmed himself a bit, seeing how I wasn't changing my opinion of guys anytime soon, and stopped being a smart-ass around me; he knew I'd just take it and shoot it right back at him.

On a Sunday, a week since my arrival at the school, Xavier called me into his office. "Have you thought over my proposition?" he asked.

"Which one?"

"Would you like to teach?"

"I dunno," I said, rubbing the back of my head. "It sounds like fun... But... What would I do? Would I need a lesson plan er anything?"

"Only if you wish," he said. "It's not mandatory. I only thought that some of the students needed to find a way to vent their anger. Some of them you wouldn't even think about have problems that they hide away from us. I think writing may be able to help some of them be able to let go and move on."

I nodded in agreement. I had felt that way when I was writing, and now I would have the power as teacher. Hell, it wasn't like I had anything better to do around here.

"Yeah," I said finally. "I'll teach tha kids how ta write."

"Good," he said. "I think we'll offer it only to those who want it."

"Sounds good ta me," I said. "Where should we put tha sign-up sheet?"

He chuckled. "I'll take care of everything later," he said. "Now, I must also ask you about something else."

"Fire away."

"I wish for Jean to run some tests on you," he said.

"Ah, I remember this conversation."

He nodded. "I want to know everything I can about how your body is reacting to all of your abilities. Have you gotten any new ones?"

"Not since comin' here, no," I answered. "Believe me, I'll know when they're comin' on." He nodded. "So, when d'you want those tests ta be run?"

"Today, if at all possible."

"Sure, my schedule's open."

"Follow me, then."

"As always, sir," I said, smirking.

Once again, I was taken down to the bottom portion of the school, and led to where Jean stood waiting in a room that resembled the emergency rooms I had seen time and time again on TV.

"Have a seat," Jean said, motioning towards a metal table. I eyed it warily, already feeling the memories coming back. "Ah," Jean said with realization. "Forget it. You can stand, if you want." I nodded.

"I'll leave you to this, Jean," Xavier said, then exited. I remained standing, my arms behind my back.

"All right, then, Rebecca, let's start off with some x-rays," Jean said, putting on a heavy apron made of lead. "Come over here..."

Jean walked me through the entire processes of x-rays, CAT scans, blood tests, and just about anything else she could think of. I was expecting an ink-blot test next, and when I told her that, she laughed.

"I'm not that kind of a doctor," she said. "Although if you really wanted an ink-blot test..." I shook my head. "That's what I thought." She scribbled down something on her pad of paper, then resumed with my physical.

"All right," she said after ten minutes of more tests. "I think you're ready to go. Your tests should be ready by tonight, so the professor will come and get you when they are, and we can discuss them a bit further."

"Cool," I said, nodding. "Thanks, I guess. See ya tonight."

I turned and walked from the room, going back up to my room.

That afternoon, when I was going down to the kitchen to get a snack, I was pulled aside by Ororo. She seemed a little upset, and I listened to what she had to say.

"There's someone in the mansion," she said in a whisper, not wanting to catch anyone's attention. "They destroyed your test results, and the professor thinks they may still be in the building. He's sending Scott and I on a mission, and while the mansion is being searched, he wants you to come with us as well."

I nodded. "Sure," I said, not wanting to argue. I figured if these people destroyed my test results, then they were after me, and I didn't feel like putting up with that, especially if it put the kids in danger. I found I had started becoming more and more maternal since coming to this school.

"Good," Ororo said, patting my hand. "Come with me, quickly."

She began to lead me towards the elevator leading to the basement/concealment area. "So, what kinda mission is this?" I asked. "Obviously one dealing with the X-jet."

"I'll explain in a moment, Rebecca," she said. "First we have to get you suited up."

"Excuse me?"

"The professor has asked you whether or not you wish to be a part of the X-Men, correct?" She turned to look at me.

"Uh... the what?"

Ororo sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. "He said that he would ask you, but it has slipped his mind," she said more to herself. "One of the most _intelligent_ people in the world, and he forgets a simple task..." She shook her head as we boarded the elevator. She pressed a button, and the doors shut.

"We are not normal mutants," she told me.

"Well, I gathered, considerin' tha big jet an' tha secret underground hideaway," I replied.

"We have those things to fight against the other mutants out there," she explained. "Mutants who have worse feelings for man-kind than we."

"Magneto."

"Mostly," she answered, inclining her head. "Although we have never had an all-out war with him, we have been keeping an eye on his forces, which are small, but powerful. We feel that he wants to gain you as an ally as well."

"Yeah, Professor X already told me 'bout that."

"What the professor failed to tell you is that we wish for you to join our team, the X-Men," Ororo said as the elevator door opened again. She walked out, me close on her heels.

"So I'm s'pose ta fight evil with good, huh?" I asked.

She nodded. "More or less, yes."

I pondered this for a moment. "So I get a suit an' everything, eh?" I smiled.

"I guess I'm supposed to take your smile as a yes."

"Sure," I said, shrugging. "What can it hurt? Where do I sign up?"

"Over here."

She took me over to a small circular room where there appeared to be outfits hanging up in small cubby-like spaces in the walls. Ororo scanned around quickly, finally picking one out and taking it from off the small hanger. She handed it to me.

"This is our uniform," she said swiftly. "It is made of leather, and will protect your body from most harm. Of course, with your healing factor, there shouldn't be much you have to worry about. Put it on quickly."

I took it from her, peeling off my shirt and pants and slipping into the suit. I didn't like undressing in front of her, but I knew there wasn't much time.

"Good," she said, taking me by the crook of my arm. "When we're on missions such as these, you are to call us by our code names."

I raised a suspicious eyebrow at her. "Code names?" I asked skeptically.

"I am called, 'Storm,' while Scott is 'Cyclops.'"

"Oh, so I _did_ guess his nick-name correctly!" I said sarcastically, beaming.

"And also, call Professor Xavier, 'the professor.'"

"But Xav- I mean, the professor said he knows Magneto."

"He does, but we still don't want to give away any other information to those who may be listening."

A good point I hadn't thought of. "All right," I said, "code names it is. Call me Felan, if we're usin' 'em. So, about this mission..."

"We're to pick up two mutants," Storm said, letting go of my arm so I could walk freely. "One is named Logan, or Wolverine, but I'm sure the professor has told you about him. He's like you, in a way. The other is an unidentifiable girl. Logan must have picked her up somewhere."

I was suddenly alert and ready to go. This man could prove helpful in my quest to seek revenge. But what if he didn't know anymore than I did? My heart sank with that thought, but I had no time to dwell on it, for we came to the jet and boarded.

"Fasten your seatbelt," Cyclops said, smirking at me.

"You drivin'?" I asked.

"Yup." He smiled.

"Oh. I will, then." I sat down and buckled the belt across my chest quickly as Cyclops chuckled, turning to the controls.

We were beginning to take off, and I watched the buttons and levers he pulled and pushed, memorizing the pattern. Hell, who knew? One day he might not be able to fly, and then where'd we be? The engines kicked on, and I began to shake slightly, though I willed myself not to panic; I'd never liked flying, and now was certainly not the time to remember that little fact about myself. I heard a vibration from over my head, and glanced up, thinking that since we were underground, something was hiding the jet from view.

"The basketball court serves as the target for when we land," Cyclops explained, as if he were a mind-reader, too. "It hides the jet from view so that we look like every other privately owned school."

I scoffed. "I wonder how many a those there are out there," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Just us," Cyclops answered, no longer laughing.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. These suits were murder on the skin, especially when seated. I grunted suddenly, thinking of something. I looked down at my knuckles, and popped my claws. Snickt!

Storm glanced back my way, and she drew back a little when she saw the claws, but kept her face relatively calm. I looked up at her, smiling a bit.

"Sorry," I said, allowing my claws back in. Snickt!

She nodded, turning back to face forward, looking out the front window of the jet. I could tell we were traveling fast, and I wondered where this man was, what he was like. Did he have all these powers that I did, too? I laughed at that idea; Xavier had said that I was the only mutant he'd seen with this disability, and surely he'd have mentioned if Logan had the exact same problem I did. But then again, who knew with these people. This was the same man who'd forgotten to tell me about his underground society of crime-fighters.

We began the landing process again, and I clamped my hands over the arm rests of the seat I was in.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Near Canada," Cyclops said.

"Not too far from where we found you, actually," Storm put in.

Strange, I thought. Well, at least this guy had good taste in country-side. We landed pretty smoothly, considering we were in a heavily wooded area; I could smell the pines through the thick metal of the jet. The gangway opened, and all three of us stepped carefully down and into a good three feet of snow. I watched as Storm and Cyclops struggled to keep from sinking into the snow as I stood on top. I giggled as Cyclops almost fell over, face first, into the snow. Though he'd forgiven me, it would still be a long time until I stopped acting civil towards him and started being nice. He shot a glare at me, and I shut up, whistling as I looked up into the sky.

"So," I started, looking around. "Where are they? We s'pose ta go find 'em er somethin'?"

"The professor said they'd be passing by the road that's just up here in a few minutes," Cyclops said, commencing his battle with the snow. Storm went after him in the path he created in the small amount of white powder, and I trod after them, keeping my mouth shut.

"Ya know, I could prolly help ya'll out," I said, stepping before Cyclops.

"I was wondering when you'd say something," he said, letting me go before him.

"Just step in my footprints, an' everything should be fine," I instructed them. They did as I told them, and we made it to the road just as I heard a tree snapping. A loud crash sounded, and I ran towards the road, bursting out of it just as a large pick-up truck with a camper attached slammed into a fallen tree. A man came flying out from the pick-up's windshield, landing roughly on the ground; he skidded to a stop about fifty feet in front of the truck. I guessed him to be the one like me.

I looked up, and saw the cause of the crash: a tree had fallen in front of the on-coming truck. I saw a girl in the front seat, and she was staring at the man in shock; it was clear that she hadn't even seen me.

Well, duh, I thought. I'm standing on the edge of the woods. I shook my head, ready to step out to help, when I saw the man beginning to stir. He shook his head, propping himself up with one hand, then the other. He did a sort of push-up like move, then was standing, looking back at the girl in the cab of the truck. She was startled at his movement; I guess she didn't know about his healing factor.

"Hey, kid, you all right?" the man called to her. She didn't respond. "Kid?!"

"I'm stuck!" she cried back to him. He growled under his breath, and the open wound on his forehead was closing as he walked towards her, more annoyed then concerned. I was certain, now, that this was Logan.

Logan and I both froze at the same moment. He popped three metal claws on each hand, meeting an attack from a huge, peculiar figure. It was a man, though he was dressed in skins and furs, like I had always imagined cavemen to be. But this man had the strength of twenty of those cavemen, and he soon had the man with the claws like mine slammed on the hood of the truck. It didn't take a genius to see the man was unconscious.

The larger man stepped closer to the truck, and I heard the footsteps of Cyclops and Storm behind me, finally. But, wanting to protect the man who might hold the information that I needed, I didn't wait for them. I ran out from my cover under the trees and launched myself at the humongous man. He roared when I scraped his back with three claws popped from my hand. He turned his attention towards me, forgetting all about the girl and Logan. I jumped down from his back, all six claws extended now. He looked mildly confused, but then I almost saw the light bulb go off over his head. He smiled, creeping closer to me. I saw his pupils were sort of slit, like you saw in the feline family. I cringed, feeling uneasy.

I sniffed. There was gasoline leaking; and fire. "Get tha girl!" I shouted over my shoulder. "Fire!" It was then the large man decided to attack. He would have chosen his time well if I hadn't had lightening for reflexes.

He let out another roar when I stabbed him, rolling him off my shoulder like I would a sack of potatoes. I threw him back towards the woods, but he stuck fast to a tree, growling at me.

"Ya want me?" I shouted up at him. "Try it!" I let my claws back in, holding my arms out to my sides, offering him a free shot. He watched me for a moment, and I could hear Storm and Cyclops releasing the girl and man. The fire was sparking against the gasoline. I teleported next to the cat-man.

"Too slow," I told him with a smile, throwing a good deal of flames at him. He made a cat-like scream as he was thrown back into the woods. The truck decided to explode then, and I almost lost my grip on the tree branch. I grabbed onto it just as I was swinging under it, looking back to see the truck spring up from the blow, only to settle back on the road comfortably as the fire consumed it.

"Felan!" I heard through the dense woods. I let my body drop to the snow, using my fist to steady myself on the drift I had managed to land on. I went quickly to the sound of the voice calling me.

"You rang?" I asked casually.

"Let's go," Cyclops said.

"Whatever you say."

The girl gave me a frightened look as we set off through the snow again, putting myself in the lead again. Cyclops carried Logan, who was still unconscious, and though I found this odd, I didn't question him; he seemed a bit ticked off at the moment. Storm was leading the girl with a careful hand; the poor thing seemed like she was shaken pretty bad, but she was brave for going with these complete strangers with no explanation whatsoever.

We made it back to the X-jet, and Cyclops put Logan in the back. "You're in charge of him," he said to me, retreating back up to his post in the driver's seat. I nodded to him, turning to look at Logan. He had a harsh line of a nose, flared nostrils, and rough skin. He had hair that was blacker than the leather I was wearing now and was shaped into two points on top of his head; it looked like he had made an attempt to have it look like devil horns...

Or wolverine ears, I thought. I looked to the girl, who seemed confused as to what to do.

"Take a seat," I said softly, motioning to a chair. "Yer in good hands."

She perked up at my accent. "Yer from tha south?" she asked quietly, sitting down and buckling up.

"Born an' raised, darlin'," I said, smiling slightly. I sat myself next to Logan, strapping him in before I did myself. "What's yer name?"

She thought about that for a minute. "Rogue," she answered. "Yers?"

"Felan." She nodded. "But that's just my code name. My real name's Rebecca."

Again, she thought before she spoke. "Marie."

I smiled. "Well, Marie, yer in good hands here. Believe me, I know. I'm one a tha newest mutants they got at this school, an' they've- well, that is, tha man who runs it, Xavier- has changed me since I've been there."

"He's really helped you that much?" she asked, seeming a little more interested.

"Yeah," I said. "You didn't see me before I got here. I was worse than he is." I nodded towards Logan.

"You know him?"

I shook my head. "I've only heard a him through Xavier." We took off, and Marie seemed rattled, looking around nervously. "S'all right. Cyclops can fly... most a tha time."

"I heard that," he called back to me, not looking up from his job. I snickered.

"Cyclops?" Marie asked in a whisper.

"Scott Summers," I replied. "Tha other one is Storm, or Ororo Munroe. They're nice people. You'll prolly meet Dr. Jean Grey, too. And a course Professor Xavier."

She nodded, calming a little bit at my words. She seemed to trust me for one reason or another, and I felt I could tell her what needed to be said.

"Where're we goin'?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"Xavier's school for gifted youngsters," I said in my deepest voice, trying to mimic what Scott had told me on my first ride in the jet. I caught her smiling a little at that, but she quickly hid it. "It's a place where mutants go to get away from society."

"Why'd you go there?" she asked innocently.

I paused for a long while. "I'd forgotten who I was," I answered slowly. "Xavier an' all tha kids there've helped me realize who I truly am again. It's a good feelin' when yer finally accepted somewhere."

"It sounds like a great place," she said. "Sorta like it's almost too good ta be true."

"That's what I thought at first, too," I admitted. "But they haven't asked much of me, an' they've given me everything in return. It's just... like a fairy tale."

She scoffed. "I don't believe in fairy tales anymore," she said, crossing her arms.

"I don't, either," I said. "But this one's real, Marie. You'll see it with yer own eyes in a few minutes."

I looked into Ororo's mind, for I could see she was smiling. _We should take her on more of these expeditions,_ Ororo thought. _She calmed the girl down immediately. _I felt proud of myself, but I didn't let it show too much.

"So, yer all mutants, right?" Marie asked tenderly.

"Uh-huh," I replied.

"So you've all got different powers?"

"Yep. All of us 'er different. We're not really classified inta groups by our powers 'er anything, but it sets us apart from each other at tha school."

"What're yer powers?" she asked, very interested. "I mean... I saw yer claws. They're like his. Like Logan's. D'you have his healing thing, too? I saw that gnash in his head just heal like that, so, ya know..."

"Actually, I do," I said, keeping calm. I didn't like talking about my claws, but I felt this was an acceptation. "I got claws, an' tha healing factor Logan's got. I've got more powers than most other mutants. How 'bout you?"

She looked down at her hands, rubbing her gloved fingers together. "Let's just say that when I touch people, they get hurt," she whispered so only I could hear.

I leaned closer. "What d'ya mean, Marie?"

She sighed, shifting uncomfortably where she sat. "When I touch someone," she said, still keeping quiet, "I feel 'em inside my head."

"That's interestin'..."

"Not really," she said, leaning back. "It's terrifyin'."

"I can only imagine what it was like to first get that power," I said quietly to her, keeping an eye on Ororo and Scott; it was clear she didn't want them to hear, and I didn't want to lose her trust. "But I know that when I first started gettin' my powers, you can bet I wasn't too far off from how scared ya are right now." I looked at her gently. "But everything'll be fine. I promise. If I can get better, you most definitely can get better."

She smiled, sitting up a little bit. "Thanks," she said. Her eyes fell on Logan. "Why d'you think he hasn't woken up yet?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I guess tha healing factor doesn't extend this far." I reached over and lifted up his eyelid, and saw his black eyes. I was shocked to find eyes darker than my own, but I shook out of my own thoughts. I let his eyelid close again. "Well, his pupil's aren't dilated, so I guess that's good."

She nodded her agreement. "He saved me," she said.

"Then I understand yer concern for 'im," I said. "Don't worry, Jean'll take good care a 'im."

She drew her legs up to her chest, searching for a more comfortable position to sit on the jet ride back to the mansion.


	10. Meet Wolverine

Scott and I carried Logan to the emergency room-like place within the basement of the mansion while Ororo took Rogue (Marie) to the professor. He was obviously going to talk to her, but not the same talk he'd had with me. Jean told me to go find the professor, but wait outside his door; he had more information for me about my results.

Walking through the silent halls, I was glad for my unusual memory skills. I remembered every turn it took to get to the elevator, and it rode me up to the main floor of the mansion. When I was inside, I heard the sleeping minds of the children one floor up. I looked around, remembering Xavier's office was to the right. I went to the doors, stopped, listened, and leaned against the wall. He was still talking to Marie.

"So you want me ta stay here?" Marie was saying. "Live here... like this place was my home?"

"Yes," Xavier answered. "We'll offer you shelter, food, clothes, and an education."

Silence.

"An' you won't tell my parents where I am?"

"Not if you don't want to contact them."

"I don't," Marie said sternly.

"I understand," Xavier said sympathetically. "Well, I'll have Ororo lead you back to your room. You'll be rooming with a few other girls. She'll introduce you, and take you to buy some clothes tomorrow morning."

"All right," Marie said, almost skeptically. I heard her rise from a chair, and walk towards the door, Ororo's footsteps before hers.

I stood in my place as the door opened, and they both walked out.

"Marie," I said, grabbing the girl's attention; she turned to face me. "Don't worry, kid. Yer in good hands, here."

She smiled lightly, then turned back to Ororo and followed her, this time with more confidence in her step. I turned about and went into Xavier's office, sitting down in the chair across from him; he was behind his desk.

"So... about that break-in earlier..."

"It was Mystic, Magneto's right-hand woman," he told me. "She obviously did not want us to see what was recorded by Jean, and she would have come after you had one of our students not noticed something."

"Who?"

"A young boy by the name of Dexter," Xavier said, becoming almost proud. "He's a bright young telepath you happened to look into her mind, on accident, of course, while she was walking by in the form of Jean. He alerted me to Mystic's presence, and I told Ororo to get you away from the mansion."

"Were ya able to see what my results were?" I asked, feeling hopeful.

"Jean was," he replied. He grew very grave. "She said she didn't like what she saw."

I stopped myself, thinking it over. Did I really want to know my fate? "Well, what did tha tests say?"

He gave a long, heavy sigh. "The rate at which you're gaining new powers is remarkable, first off," he told me. "Something within your mind that is irreparable, for where the mutant factor is in the brain is so tiny that surgery would kill you." He took another long breath. "This factor within your mind has grown confused, for lack of a better word. It does not know you've already hit puberty and received your powers, therefore it keeps going, giving you more and more with each passing year."

"So, it thinks I don't have any powers, so it's givin' me more ta see if those'll work?" I asked, trying to understand what was going on.

"More or less, yes," Xavier said.

"So, uh... what'll tha outcome be because a this?"

He stopped, obviously wishing I hadn't asked this question. "There are many outcomes," he finally said. "One is that you will go insane from all of these new powers, because your mind will not have the capacity to deal with them. Another is that your brain will become over-powered with the amount of mutant abilities you will possess, and you will lose all or most of them in your brain's attempt to gain relief. In that case, if you do lose all of your powers, the metal- which was overlooked at the time- that runs through your bones will kill you, for your healing factor will no longer be there to help you."

I stared at him for a long minute, thinking. "Thanks fer givin' it to me straight, professor," I said, keeping my voice steady. I swallowed down my fears. "Are there any immediate repercussions?"

"Not that Jean could see," he answered. "It could take anywhere from a few years to a few decades; we're just not sure."

I nodded, looking to the floor. I heard him roll over to me and I felt the pressure of his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca," he said quietly. "I know you've already been through much in your few years, but it looks as though you'll have more to deal with in the long run of things."

"S'all right," I informed him, looking up. "I'll deal." I gave him a weak smile, and he managed to return it. "Well, professor, if you'll excuse me... I got a class tomorrow that I gotta prepare for."

Xavier nodded. "I know you're strong, Rebecca," he said, patting my shoulder. "But remember, if you need to talk about something, I'm here."

"Ya sound like my dad, professor," I answered, a hint of annoyance in my voice. He let me go without another word, and I went back up to my room. I didn't sleep that night, but it felt good to have a blank wall to stare at.

When the sun was rising, I got ready for my class. Bypassing breakfast, I went straight to the room when Xavier had said I was to hold class in. I went into the small room, looking around; there were plenty of windows, drawn with thick curtains, the same color of deep red that ran throughout the entire mansion. Many desks sat in the room facing a large wooden teacher's desk; my desk. A huge red chair sat behind it, and a rolling dry-erase board beside the desk and chair. I walked over to it, running my hand along my desk's frame. This was all sort of new to me, and I wasn't sure how to take it all in.

I heard students beginning to come in, and I straightened my black t-shirt, The Beatles pasted in blue on the front. I leaned against my desk casually, waiting for the first to arrive. I remember these would be the older students first, the ones from about fifteen to seventeen in age. I thanked Xavier for doing that for me.

The first one entered, and to my surprise, Bobby's smile welcomed me. Next came John, then Kitty, Jubilee, Jamie, and coming in after them, and a number of students whose faces I recognized but couldn't place to names, was Marie, Rogue, the girl we'd just picked up the night before. I bet Xavier had heard of my effect on her, and placed her in this class for me to help her further. When the students had all settled, I began class by shutting the door with a loud bang; all those who'd been talking turned to look at me with questioning gazes. I smiled.

"Welcome to yer first creative writing class," I said. "My name's Rebecca. Don't worry about the 'Ms.' thing with me. I'm not much older than y'all, actually."

All seemed shocked by this, except those few who knew me. Rogue was very quiet, looking down at her notebook she had brought with her.

"I'm nearly twenty," I continued, going back up to the desk. "An' yes, I'm new here, as I sense many of ya are thinkin'. In case yer wonderin', I'm a telepath, along with a few other things."

I gave the few friends of mine, who sat in the front row, a warning look, daring them to say something to the other students. They took the hint.

"Now," I said, clasping my hands together in a loud clap. "What is creative writing? Well, it's where you write... creatively." I got a good laugh out of that one. "Seriously, creative writing is basically getting your thoughts out of paper. That's all I'm expectin' of ya. You'll all be given prompts, or sometimes free-writes, where ya write about whatever ya want, and I'll give ya a certain amount a time in which ta write on that topic. Once yer finished, I'll ask those few brave souls ta read what they're workin' on. Tha next time we meet, we'll get inta small groups, an' begin tha editing process." I looked around. "Any questions?"

John raised his hand, stretching it as far as it would go. Many students laughed.

"Yes, John?" I asked.

He put his hand down, using it to support him while he leaned on it. "Aren't you going to have a little get-together time with us?" he asked. "You know, where we all introduce ourselves to one another."

I stared at him. His question was innocent, but his thoughts weren't. "See me after class, Pyro," I said neutrally. He sat back in his seat as the other kids around him snickered. Bobby shot him a look.

At that point, I went around the room and asked each student their name, why they took this class, and what their power(s) were. I learned all of them had only one power. I felt very out of place, like Xavier said I was. Then I began the class, giving them a prompt.

"If you were ta meet one author, dead author, by the way, who would it be?" I asked, walking around the room. "Would it be Frost? Or how about Poe? Perhaps Shakespeare suits your fancy... Anyone. Pick one author and/or poet, and write from their point of view, in the first person, please." I paused, looking at their faces; I saw many had begun setting to work. "I'll expect ya ta work for the rest of the class time; we'll begin readin' them next class, and then to editing!"

The kids worked for the rest of the class diligently, looking up with surprised glances when the bell rang. All got up, including John, but I called to him.

"Pyro, Pyro!" I said, waving to him. He stopped, turning to me. "Come 'ere."

He came reluctantly, a bit worried. I waited for the other kids to leave, nodding to Rogue and Bobby on their way out. My gaze shifted to John, who took a step back.

"Ya need ta learn ta keep yer thoughts under control, Pyro," I said to him, my voice deep with anger. "I'm a teacher at this school, an' I will not have ya thinkin' stuff like that, then try ta hide it as an innocent question. I don't work like that."

"You- you saw what I was thinking?" he asked, swallowing. He was nervous, now.

"More like I heard ya, kid, yer louder than an elephant through a china shop," I said. I paused, waiting for an answer; when I didn't receive one, I spoke again. "Ya know what happened ta me, don't cha, kid?"

"Not really..."

"So ya forgot that little talk I had with ya last week already, huh?"

His eyes widened. "No, ma'am," he said quickly. "I'm- I'm really sorry. Don't tell the professor, please. I'm already in enough trouble with Dr. Grey and Ms. Munroe."

"Why does that not surprise me?" I asked, shaking my head slowly. "All right, John, apology accepted. Now don't come back ta this class, or cross my path until ya get yer morals shaped up."

He nodded sharply, turning around and all but running out the door.


	11. A Tour for Logan

I wouldn't have another class of kids until that afternoon, when those who were about twelve to fourteen would come in. I was suddenly called to Xavier's office, just when I noticed I had nothing to do. He said to meet him in his office immediately. I jogged down the hall, and came to Xavier's office door just as Rogue, Scott, Ororo, and Jean were about to enter. Ororo smiled, and offered a space for me to enter, which I did obligingly, still a bit confused as to what was going on.

We entered the room, and I saw Xavier and Logan standing there, the dark-haired man looking at everyone with a scrutinizing stare. His gaze landed on Jean, of course, the one who seemed to stand out the most with her red hair and green eyes.

"Ah, thank you," said Xavier. "Dr. Grey, allow me to introduce Logan."

Jean stepped forward, smiling pleasantly as she extended her hand. "Yes, we've met," she said. "Call me Jean."

Logan took her hand, unable to take his stare from her eyes. I rolled mine, crossing my arms in front of my chest; all men were really the same. See a pretty girl, and they're down for the count.

"This is Scott Summers, also called Cyclops," Xavier continued, seeming to be unaware of Logan's sudden un-interest. "Ororo Munroe, also called Storm. And Rebecca Felan, who goes by Felan. They are the ones who saved your life."

Logan glanced at us, but he turned his attention to Rogue and said nothing.

"Don't mention it," Scott said, and I had to stop myself from snickering. Logan wasn't one for manners, like I had been just a few weeks earlier.

Jean put her hand on Scott's arm, and I saw Logan taking note of it. This guy needed to learn the meaning of subtlety.

"What are ya gonna do with her?" Logan asked, moving closer to Rogue. Well, that was sweeter than I had expected him to be.

Xavier smiled at Rogue. "Rogue's been on her own now for some time, searching for a home. A place to belong."

Rogue nodded, and it was clear she had enjoyed her stay at the mansion already.

"We're going to give her that," Xavier finished, turning back to face Logan.

Rogue nodded again, giving me a small smile in the process. I returned it gratefully.

"So," Logan said, glancing at us all, "this place is sort of a dog pound for unwanted mutants, is that it?"

"It is a school," Xavier replied calmly. I detected the hidden annoyance behind that sentence.

Logan shrugged. "I don't really believe what you're doing here, but lucky for me, I don't care." He started for the door. "Thanks for the ride."

"Hold on," Scott said, stepping toward Logan. I knew that was a mistake before he even did it.

Logan threw his fist at Scott, knocking him back into the wall. Scott laid one hand to catch himself in the fall and another shot straight to his glasses. I had figured out that behind his glasses lay his power. When this had been done, he scrambled to his feet, clearly angered as he started back towards Logan. Wolverine stood his ground, and I realized I needed to act fast.

"Cyclops!" Jean said in a crisp, loud voice as I started forward.

Logan's claws came out when Scott kept going closer to him.

"Logan!" I said sharply. His glare came at me now. "Stop!"

"Make me, kid," he growled.

Snickt! I let my claws slide out, all six of them, and stood there before Logan, allowing him to see what might be a skewed reflection of himself. All was very silent, and I could feel Rogue inside my mind, her own thoughts racing. _She wasn't kidding, _she was thinking. Jean stepped forward then, allowing herself to be seen over my shoulder.

"I know you think none of this is your concern," she said to him. "But Magneto will find you. And a lot of lives could be in danger, including your own."

Logan slowly retracted his claws, and I did so with mine. He was looking from Jean to me, back to Jean, back to me. He was clearly at a loss for words. Then Xavier stepped in.

"Logan, I'll make you a deal," he said. "You give me forty-eight hours to figure out what Magneto wants with you, and I will give you my word that, no matter what happens, I'll use all my power to help you piece together what you've lost. And what you're looking for."

Logan, still moving his gaze from Jean and me, nodded. His claws finished retracting, his fists opened, and his shoulders relaxed. "Forty-eight hours, old man," he said. "Cross me, and I won't feel any guilt about what I do."

Jean smiled. "Thank you, Logan."

He didn't respond, not even after Jean, Scott, Ororo, and Rogue had left the room.

"How come ya didn't gimme that good of a deal, professor?" I asked, turning to face the man in the wheelchair.

He smiled at me, the soft smile I'd grown accustomed to. "I'm sorry I forgot to tell Logan more about you, but there wasn't much time," he said.

"I can see that," I replied, looking over at Logan, who still stood where he had been when everyone else was in the room. I held out my hand. "Rebecca Felan," I said.

He took my hand, looking me over as he did so, his stare lingering at my hands. "You too?"

"Yeah."

"Do ya know anything about 'im?"

I shook my head. "Bastard convinced my parents I was a menace to society, and paid them to let him take me. He ran some experiments, had his way with me, and I escaped. He was real careful not ta say his name around me." I re-crossed my arms, becoming suddenly uncomfortable discussing my situation. "I was hopin' ya'd be able ta shed some light on tha subject for me."

He shrugged. "I dunno anymore than you do, kid," he said.

"Don't call me kid," I snapped, watching him out of the corner of my eyes. "Rebecca'll do fine. Or Felan. I'm not picky."

"Ya obviously are if ya don't like me callin' ya kid," he pointed out.

"I'm a teacher here, Logan, an' though ya may not be a student an' I may not be yer equal, I expect a little respect," I said slowly, choosing my words very carefully. "We both went through tha same thing with this guy, though mine was prolly a little bit different from yers. We need ta get this guy, an' since tha professor's helpin' ya, he's helpin' me in return. We can get this guy together, Logan, if ya want to."

He considered this carefully. "Whaddya mean yours was a different experience from mine?"

I paused, shifting my weight to one foot. I stared him down. "Can I ask ya somethin'?" He put his hand out before him, telling me to go ahead. "Did this guy rape you?" I raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to say something, but he took the hint, and looked down to the floor. "So, whaddya say? We get this guy together, er should ya just leave it up ta fate an' see who gets there first?"

He sighed. "Whatever information Xavier here finds out for me, it's yours too."

"Thank you," I said, relaxing at bit. "I appreciate it, truly."

"Rebecca, would you like to accompany Logan and I on a tour of the school?" Xavier asked.

"Sure," I answered. "I don't have any more classes 'till this afternoon."

We started for the door, I falling into place behind Xavier, and Logan behind me. "So, what do ya teach here?" he asked, obviously trying to be polite.

"Creative writing," I answered. "Just had my first class this mornin'. It went pretty well, I think."

"How long have you been here?"

"'Bout two weeks."

"How'd you escape?"

I stopped. "I dunno," I said. "I just saw my moment, an' I took it. His guards couldn't catch me, an' I was out inta tha snow faster than a bullet can fly."

"Snow?" Logan asked. "Ya mean it was up north?"

"Yeah," I said, remembering. "I found this little cabin not too far away from wherever I was, an' it had a map in it, but no one was there. I looked at tha map, an' figured out I was somewhere near tha Canadian border. But that was 'bout a couple a months ago now, I guess."

"Would you be able to recognize the place now?" He was growing excited with this new information.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "If I did, I'd've been there an' killed 'im already, then we wouldn't be havin' this lovely conversation."

He chuckled a bit at that, and I let a small grin escape from my lips. We kept our pace with the silent movements of Xavier's wheelchair. The professor showed Logan the huge solarium and the many rooms along the way from his office to the regularly-used areas of the mansion. I read Logan's thoughts quietly, making sure he didn't sense me there. He was thinking how there was some definite money backing this up, and that if the professor could read minds—which he seemed to be able to do—there really wouldn't be a problem getting that money. I smiled at his naivety.

"The dining rooms, kitchen, and parlor are found in the other wing," Xavier said, going on with the tour. "As you can see, everything on this floor and above has been designed to be viewed by the general public. As far as they know, this is merely a school for 'gifted' students."

I scoffed, quickly covering it up as a cough as the professor led us to the concealed elevator door. I could clearly see it now, and I knew Logan could also. When the elevator door opened with a ding, we all stepped inside.

"The subbasements however, are an entirely different matter."

"So how'd I get in here?" Logan asked. "You didn't bring me in through the front door."

The door of the elevator opened, revealing the lab corridor.

"Come on," the professor said. "I'll show you."

We moved down the corridor, turning twice before reaching wide doors that opened automatically onto a massive hangar. I smiled at the shiny black jet, and Logan gazed in wonder.

"Vertical takeoff and landings," the professor said, motioning toward the jet. "Instruments that allow it to fly in any weather."

"Amazing," Logan said, moving out into the hangar and looking around curiously.

"If ya think that's amazin', you should see Cyclops fly tha thing," I said with a smirk.

Logan chuckled, then looked up and pointed. "Hidden entrance?"

"Perfectly hidden," the professor said, nodding.

"Basketball court," I added with smile.

"So why all this?" Logan asked, motioning at the equipment and jet.

"Everyone here has abilities," Xavier said. "Powers. Curses, until they can be controlled. All of us have hurt and been hurt. And none of us asked to be the way we are."

I looked down to the ground, shifting uncomfortably.

"I hear ya there," Logan said.

"When I was fifteen years old," the professor said, "I began to hear people's thoughts. At first I thought I was going mad. One day I read the mind of one of my teachers and saw that he was going to fail me, simply because he didn't like me."

"I bet that pissed you off," Logan said. I stood by quietly, waiting for the outcome of this interesting conversation. I still needed to talk more with Logan.

"It did at that," the professor commented. "I was so mad I put a suggestion in his mind that he was having a heart attack. He nearly died."

Logan looked down at Xavier, and I thought I saw a change in his whole demeanor. "So what'd you do?"

"I was terrified," the professor said, "as most everyone here was when something first happened to them. I withdrew from everything, fearful that I might hurt someone else. I thought I was alone."

"But you weren't."

Xavier nodded slightly. "That was when I met Eric Lehnsherr. Eric, too, had a power. He could create magnetic fields, enabling him to manipulate metal. He helped me understand what I was. And to find ways of controlling my power. Eric also showed me that there were others like us."

"How long ago was this?" Logan asked.

Xavier smiled, and I did as well; I guess I had estimated his age correctly. "More years ago than I care to think about. As the years went by and our numbers increased, so did the fear and prejudice of ordinary humans. Our world changed, and Eric changed with it. He believed that humanity would never accept us, that a war between mutants and humans was inevitable. He was angry, vengeful. That's when he became Magneto."

"And you could no longer stay with him?" Logan asked.

"Exactly," Xavier said, clearly still sad about it despite all the years. He began moving on, towards the stable and garage, and I followed him faithfully, still captured with his story. "I opened this school, a place where mutants could be safe from persecution. This is a place where they could not only learn to focus their powers, but also learn that mankind is not evil. Just uninformed."

"You still didn't answer my question," Logan said. "Why all this hardware?"

"There are mutants out there with incredible power, Logan," Xavier continued, not missing a beat. "I knew that a day would come when some of them might use that power against the rest of humanity. And that if there was no one to challenge them, humanity's days would end."

"So you're the challenge," Logan said, nodding.

"Evil men succeed when good men do nothing," Xavier said. "A famous quote that Eric taught me once."

Logan nodded again. I was still interested in everything around me, though I was listening intently to Xavier's story; I'd learned more about the mansion and the professor in five minutes than I had in the entire two weeks of being here.

"Now," Professor Xavier said, turning his chair back towards the hallways. "If you wouldn't mind, Dr. Grey would like to examine you. And, Rebecca, if you please, she would like to have a look at you as well."

"Again?" I asked, finally coming back into the conversation.

"Yes."

"'Cause they got destroyed tha first time, okay," I said with a sigh. _I don't think Logan minds gettin' looked over by Jean, _I added to him through my power.

Xavier chuckled as he led Logan and me down the hall.


	12. The True Results

I wasn't able to talk with Logan at all through the procedures that Jean put us through, nor after my class, nor after dinner. He wouldn't take his eyes off the pretty doctor long enough to give me a passing glance. This annoyed me to a certain point, and I let it be known by giving him side-long glances, the ones that meant, "I need to talk to you." But this guy was a piece of work. As I said before, the first person with large goo-goo eyes and a little leg showing gets all the attention. This didn't bother me, for the simple fact that I didn't like guys looking at me anymore, but when I actually had business to discuss... it was just frustrating.

I found that his room was right across the hall from mine, but I had to wait for Jean to evacuate the premises before I could enter. I heard a lot of their conversation, though most of it was quick little come-ons on Logan's part. Poor guy, he tried so hard, but then Cyclops came in and ruined all his fun. But Scott's parting line of, "Stay away from my girl" had me literally rolling on the floor of my room with laughter.

When I was sure it was safe, I went across the hall and knocked on the door. He opened it a moment later and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Hey," I said, trying my best not to sound desperate. "Ya gotta minute?"

He held the door open a little bit more, and I went in past him. He shut the door silently behind me, and I felt only maybe a smidge uncomfortable at that point, but tried to brush it off. I could take this guy if need be.

"I wanted ta see if ya knew anymore," I said. "Ya know, about tha guy."

"Well, what do you remember about him?" Logan asked, sitting on the side of the bed.

I remained standing, rubbing my upper arm absent-mindedly. "He was short," I said, recalling a memory that wasn't as bad as the others. "Maybe about, yay-high." I measured him with my hand, standing just about my height, though only a little shorter. "An' he was real fat. Huge guy, too big for his own height. He had grayin' hair, like salt an' pepper, and thick-rimmed glasses. I think he was far-sighted." I scoffed at the thought, thinking about my own perfect vision.

"Well, that's better than what I got," he admitted.

"An' what's that?"

"Nothin'."

"Ah."

A slight pause. "Jean told me you were different," he said, leaning back and spreading his arms out on the bed behind him, so he was looking at me while lying down. "But she wouldn't say anymore than that. Said I had to ask you if I wanted to know."

"A rightful statement," I said, perhaps with too much of an air of dignity. Okay, it was just plain snobbish. I shrugged it off. "Yeah... I'm not tha normal run-a-tha-mill mutant."

"How so?"

"I have a lot a powers."

"How many?" He raised an eyebrow, as if seeing me in a new light.

"Twelve, so far."

"Damn. And I thought havin' just these powers was too much to handle. Is that why Jean had to run so many tests on you?"

"For the second time in three days," I added, a bit annoyed.

"What happened to the first results?"

"One a Magneto's lackeys came after me an' ended up destroyin' tha results," I said. "But Jean got a look at 'em first."

"So Magneto's after you, too, huh?" I nodded. "Well, what about the results? Were they any good?"

"If ya think goin' insane and/or dyin' er good results, than yeah," I said casually, finally seeing a small chair in the corner. I sat down and pulled my knees to my chest, my usual sitting position.

"I'm sorry," Logan said, seeming either embarrassed or shocked, or maybe a bit of both.

"Don't be."

"You're not afraid ta die?"

"I've been through worse things than death," I said. "The facts don't scare me anymore."

"Facts?"

I sighed. "The only things we're sure about in tha world er death an' taxes," I said.

He chuckled. "Ain't that the truth?" He gave me a long, hard look, as though he were about to say something.

"Don't give yerself too much credit, Wolverine," I said. "I always sit like this 'round guys."

His eyes widened a bit, but he cocked his head to one side. "One of your powers wouldn't happen to be mind-reading, would it?"

I nodded. "Telepathy, telekinesis... Ya name it, I prolly got it."

"Teleporting?"

"Yeah."

"Senses?"

"Heightened."

He paused. "Well I can't ask ya about the claws, seeing as ya already have 'em..."

I laughed. "I knew that'd get yer attention," I said with a grin.

"You succeeded. Kept me off Cyclops for a while."

"Until Jean stepped in."

"Yeah, until- Hey." He pointed a finger at me. "You're a fast one."

I shrugged. "I'm just a bit over-observant."

"Well with all those powers, ya should be," he said, pausing again. "About... _him_..." He looked at me from the side of his eyes. "Did he really rape you?"

My grip on my legs tightened. "Yeah," I answered, my throat beginning to close up as the words tried to come out.

"Jean told me ya didn't trust men too much," he said. "Yet here ya are, surrounded by swarms of 'em."

"I trust the professor with my life," I said. "An' tha rest er students er all younger than me. Scott... Well, he's got Jean. You, on tha other hand... I dunno anything about ya, except tha fact we both share tha same creator, fer lack of a better term."

He stopped, looking down at his stomach for a moment. "Jean an' Cyclops, huh?"

"S'what I've been told."

"By who?"

"Jean."

He grunted, deciding now was a good time to change the subject. This guy was a really good person for someone to read; his mind was seriously open. I was truly amazed how I only had to look at him to tell what he was thinking. "How old are you?"

"I'll be twenty in March," I said. "What? A month away now?"

He shook his head. "You're just a kid," he said sadly. "That guy's a real bastard for doin' something like this to a kid."

"'Scuse me, but I haven't been a kid in a long time," I snapped, feeling the hair on the back of my neck bristle. "He stole that from me, so don't even think about callin' me a kid when I never had that ta begin with!"

Logan stared at me. "He really did a number on you, didn't he, Becca?"

I glared at him over the tops of my knees. "Yeah," I said icily. "He did. I don't sleep now 'cause a all the nightmares."

His brow furrowed at the mention of them. "I get those, too," he said. "They're probably not as bad as yours are, but..." He stopped. "Jean had a look into my mind; said there was a lot of stuff there she didn't understand. Would you-?"

"If ya hold still an' don't move at all, yeah," I said, getting slowly out of my chair.

"I won't," he assured me.

"Good."

I went over to him, sat down next to him on the bed. I shuddered, not liking the feeling of a man beside me, but I sucked up the memories, placing my hands on his forehead. A sudden rush of memories surged within my own brain, playing before my eyes like the movies. I saw the place I escaped from; saw Logan running for his life; saw the man yelling after him, shouting at his guards to do something. I pulled away, stopping my tears before they even had a chance to form. I drew my hands towards my chest, shivering at the mental image I saw of the man; he looked younger, with more brown hair than gray.

Logan opened his eyes as well, jumping slightly, though I think I startled him more than the memory. "What'd you see?" he asked, almost too eagerly. He hadn't even seen the memory.

"Him," I answered, my voice shaking. "It was him."

He let me sit there for a moment, watching me shake. He knew I would snap at him if he touched me, and he moved away from me, even, seeming to know my thoughts. I shivered as though I were freezing to death for maybe a minute before I could get it under control.

"Don't ask me ta do that again, Logan," I said, knowing I was pleading, something I despised doing. I stood and began for the door.

"I won't," he answered, eyeing me with a new look. Whatever it was, I didn't like it, and I rose quickly. He stood as well. "Wait a minute, where're you going?"

"To bed," I said, reaching the door.

"You said you didn't sleep."

"I don't. I stare at the wall," I growled.

"Why?"

"It makes me feel better." I opened the door, and started to go out.

"Thanks," he said, stopping me in my tracks. "For readin' my mind. I know it hurt ya in some way... Well, not like it's hard to tell, seein' as how you were shaking- Sorry."

"Don't feel sorry for me," I said again, then left.

I was on my way to my room when I heard Jean calling out with her telepathy for Ororo, Scott, and Xavier to come down to the basement area. I knew the message wasn't meant for me, but I followed it back to its source, teleporting to the room just outside of where Jean stood. I then walked in, seeing that there were a number of x-rays upon a viewing station; the light from behind them was off.

"What's this?" I asked, pointing to them.

"The results of your tests," she said, surprised to see me. "You and Logan's."

"Ah," I replied, staring at them for a moment. "Were ya gonna call us down here ta discuss 'em, er were ya just gonna do it without us?"

She remained quiet, but it was then that Xavier, Scott, and Ororo decided to make their appearance.

"Ah, Rebecca, I'm glad you came," Xavier said to me. "All right, Jean, what are the results?"

Jean turned on the light to illuminate the x-rays. I saw two different skeletons: the smaller one was mine, and the other Logan's. I saw the difference between the bones and the metal that ran through and along them. Jean began pointing out all the bones to us, and I listened intently.

"The metal is an alloy called adamantium," she said finally, pointing to the metal on an x-ray of Logan's arm.

"You're kidding," Scott said.

"I didn't think that was possible," Xavier said, staring at the x-rays, his features calm as always.

"I didn't either," Jean said. "Until today, I thought adamantium to be a myth. Impenetrable, unbreakable. Supposedly indestructible." She pointed at the white on a new x-ray, mine. "But all that is adamantium."

I felt the eyes of the others on me, but I kept my eyes glued to the x-rays.

"How in the world did anyone even work it into shapes?" Ororo asked.

Jean shook her head. "I've no idea. But it's been surgically grafted into their entire skeletons. Even around their joints and over their skulls."

"Amazing," Scott said, turning once again to look me over.

"How could anyone have survived a procedure like that?" Ororo asked, as if she hadn't seen me in the room.

"Our mutation," I said, looking at her. "We both have regenerative capabilities, so we can heal very quickly."

"This also makes their ages impossible to determine," Jean piped in. "Unlike Rebecca, Logan doesn't remember how old he was when this procedure was done. For all we know, he could very well be older than you, Professor."

Xavier smiled.

Scott laughed, then asked, "And we're certain that it was the same man who did this to both of them? And do we know who he is? More importantly, do we know why he did it?"

Xavier was about to answer, but Jean jumped in ahead of him, basing her answer on her last conversation with Logan, and the mental connection they had shared. "He doesn't know. Nor does he remember anything about his life before the operation happened. But he remembers the pain."

"I looked inta his mind," I said. "Not too long ago. I saw tha same guy I remember doin' this to me." I nodded. "There's no way it could be two different people."

Xavier stared at us both for a moment, then sighed. "This is something I've feared all along: experimentation on mutants. It's not entirely unheard of, but I've never seen anything like this before."

He continued staring at the x-rays, transfixed with the idea of how anyone could be so inhuman to another human being.

"So," Scott said, staring at Jean for an instant before glancing at Xavier, "What do you think Magneto wants with them?"

Xavier pointed at the x-rays on the wall. "I'm not entirely sure it's _him_ that Magneto wants," he said. "Rebecca he wants for her powers; she would be useful to him. But Logan..." He shook his head uncertainly.

"The adamantium?" Ororo asked.

Xavier didn't answer.

"When you looked into Logan's mind, Rebecca, what did you see?" Jean asked. I was finally being noticed, but not in the way that I wanted to be.

"_Him_," I answered, my voice barely audible. "I saw _him_... And I saw, from Logan's eyes, the beginnings of the procedure. But mostly, I just saw him." I looked over at her, beginning to shake again.

She nodded, leaving the conversation alone. I looked back at the x-rays. "Did you get a chance ta re-run tha tests ya did the other day?" I asked. She nodded. "What about tha results?"

"The same," she said quietly.

I looked to the floor. "All right," I said. "Thanks. I'm gonna... go up ta bed."

I nodded to each of them, but was unable to catch the professor's eye, so I left. Once out in the hall, I teleported back to my room, not wanting to run into anyone. I felt extremely drained for what seemed to be no reason at all; I wanted to cry. I had thought too much of my creator that day, and I needed to escape from him, but I couldn't go to sleep to do that. I looked around my room, getting up and going over to a shelf that had been empty this morning, but now was full of books. I smiled as I looked over the titles.

"You sly ole dog," I whispered, running my fingers over the spines of the books. I figured he'd had them placed in my room earlier that day, and I appreciated it; it was something to do.

"Are ya kiddin' me?" I asked breathlessly, a grin spreading over my lips again. I pulled out the book. "_The Call of the Wild_... Ha!"

I took the book back to my bed and began reading.


	13. Rogue

**Chapter 13: Rogue  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. The end.**

**Author's Note: Apologies for the overly-long not updating period. It was uncalled for. Please don't kill me. And if you like Harry Potter, my HP story should be updated soon once I figure out how to write myself out of the corner I somehow got myself into in Chapter 6. Enjoy! **

A few silent hours passed, and I was aware that the whole of the people in the mansion were asleep; I listened more intently, and heard Logan across the hall, obviously having one of those nightmares he'd told me about. I left him alone. I'd not been one to be happy when awakened from my nightmares. I continued reading, until I heard his scream.

At that point I threw down my book and ran into his room, throwing open the door; Scott was right after me, running down the hall half-dressed. I saw Logan, his claws imbedded into the figure of Rogue, who stood just before him, not making a sound. Logan was staring at her, and she stared back. I heard Jean and Ororo enter at this point, and all was very quiet for a moment. Scott started to go towards Rogue to try and help.

Ororo grabbed his arm. "Don't touch her," she warned.

Rogue nodded, then smiled at Logan. "You were having a nightmare," she said, her voice raspy.

"I know," Logan said, too dumbfounded to be able to do anything.

I watched as Rogue eased one arm slowly and gently touched his face. For a short moment, all was fine, then Logan's claws retracted and he began to gasp. Rogue staggered back, mouth open in a silent scream. Her eyes were wide with fear, with shock, with horror. Her hand left the side of Logan's face at that point, and he fell back onto his bed, knocked out.

Rogue remained standing, and I saw her wounds begin to heal over, like it did on my skin. When they had healed, not even a scar was left from Logan's claws. I moved to where she stood, breathing heavily, looking at Logan with fear in her eyes. I saw she had a body stocking on, something I bet Xavier had bought for her (a smart move). I held my hand out to her and touched her shoulder.

"Come on, girl, let's get you outa here," I said softly, pulling her gently towards me.

She came willingly, and I handed her off to Ororo, who was a better care-taker than I. At that point, I went and stooped over Logan's body, putting my index and middle finger up to his neck. I waited, and felt a heart beat, and though his breathing was ragged, he was most definitely alive. After making sure of this, I looked up to Scott and Jean.

"You call the professor?" I asked her.

"Yes, he's on his way."

I nodded, sitting in the chair next to his bed as we waited for Xavier to show. Scott began getting the kids who had gathered around the door to go back to bed. I saw Bobby and John's head among them. I glared at them, and they both scattered swiftly.

When Xavier did come in, Scott left, along with Ororo, who had come back from taking Rogue back to bed. This left Jean, Xavier, and me to deal with Logan. I waited to see if they wanted me to leave, but they said nothing, so I stayed.

Jean stood behind the professor, and he motioned for me to stay where I was, closest to Logan. Apparently, I was to be used as the muscle of this operation. Xavier was going to attempt to wake Wolverine up; I knew this had a high possibility of turning out badly, which was probably why they didn't make me leave.

"Ready?" Xavier asked.

"When you are," Jean replied.

Xavier looked to me and I nodded, looking back to Logan.

_You are perfectly safe now._

The professor was allowing both Jean and I to hear what he was thinking.

Logan stirred and moaned, twisting in his bed.

_I want you to stay calm, and tell me if you understand what I'm saying._

Logan opened his eyes slowly and again moaned, reaching up and touching his head.

_Do you understand me?_

"Would you get the hell outa my head, cue ball!" Logan snarled.

I burst out into laughter, as did Jean. Why hadn't I thought of that insult before? I thought, bent over with amusement. The professor was also very pleased; the small smile on his face gave him away.

"Well," Professor Xavier said out loud, "I'd say you are recovering nicely."

The professor moved up closer to the bed, and Jean moved over and sat at the foot. I stayed put, still unsure of what to do.

"How's Rogue? Is she okay? And what did she do to me?" Logan asked, holding his head. "I feel like I've been on a ten-day bender."

"She borrowed your power," Jean said.

"Pardon me?" Logan responded, blinking at her, like he was trying to focus his eyes.

"Rogue is like a conductor," Xavier explained. "Any physical contact can cause unconsciousness, seizures, and even death to the one she touches."

"Not a fun mutation," Logan said. "And I've seen it at work before."

"It is not," Xavier agreed. "With mutants, she's able to take on their gifts for a short time."

"In this case," Jean said, "your ability to heal."

"Well," Logan said, still holding his head with one hand, "it felt like she almost killed me."

"If she had held on any longer, she might have," Xavier said. He glanced over at Jean, then back at Logan. "You should get some sleep now."

Xavier turned and wheeled his chair out into the hallway. Jean stood and moved to stand beside Logan where he lay on the bed. "You need something, you shout."

Logan took her hand. This is where I took my leave, rolling my eyes as I went. I shut myself up in my room for the rest of the night, going back and revisiting Jack London's adrenaline-rushing book.

The next morning I dressed and ate my breakfast normally, registering that Logan was not awake yet. I figured it was all for the better. While I was in the kitchen, Rogue came in, and I gave her a warm smile and a "good morning." The other kids weren't so helpful in my attempt to make her feel normal. Some went even as far as to leave the room when she sat down at the table with a bowl of cereal, others just moved over, or completely ignored her. Word got around fast in this place.

I took a seat by her, but it was clear that she didn't want to talk. After a couple of minutes, I finished my cereal and put my dish in the sink, exiting to go up to my classroom. I had the older kids first that day; I'd get to see first-hand how the teenage psyche worked all over again, not exactly what I'd been hoping for when I took the teaching job, but there was nothing I could do about it.


	14. Disappearance

**Chapter 14: Disappearance  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. The end.**

The kids in the class didn't even talk to Rogue, nor spare her a passing glance. John was a perfect student today, a surprising turn of events; I supposed my talk with him yesterday still left him a bit riled.

I gave them a prompt to write on, one that would make them really think.

"Why is it, do you suppose," I began, walking around the classroom as I spoke, "that when there're others who are different from us, we immediately think they're somethin' ta fear?" I paused, and heard someone whisper.

"Yes, Jubilee, even mutants do this ta one another," I said, looking to the Hispanic girl. "What do ya think causes this? Do ya think this's just plain human instinct, somethin' that's been instilled in us since tha dawn a time? Or do ya think it's something that we do, just because we've afraid of everything? Do humans have an instinctual paranoia?" I paused for effect. "Write about a time when you've felt alienated. If any of you need to know what this means, there're dictionaries over on the far shelf on the wall over here." I pointed to my left, looking at John as I said this. A few students caught on, and chuckled, and John got up, hiking up his jeans as he did so, and strolled over to retrieve a dictionary, getting a number of laughs from the audience.

"All right, all right, go sit down now," I told him, pushing him back to his chair lightly, a smile on my face. "This's due next class period. If ya don't finish it in class, do it for homework." A collective groan; I looked out at the faces, trying to seem confused. "Don't tell me y'all took this class 'cause ya thought ya'd get outa homework!" Another groan. "Get to work, lazy bums!"

I waved an arm at them, and more chuckles sprung up from the crowd as I made my way back to my desk. When I looked up, I saw Rogue watching me, and she gave me the tiniest of smiles as I sat down. I nodded in response.

That day at lunch, I watched from outside my classroom window as Rogue was pushed away from every group she approached, and even from some she didn't. I felt incredibly sad and angry that even the students who had been in my class just didn't take the hint, or wouldn't. Which of the two it was I wasn't completely sure of. Then, my hope soared when I saw Bobby approached her. They talked for a few minutes, and then Bobby suddenly got up and walked to the basketball court, where a small game was in progress. Rogue stood just a moment later, placed a banana in her pocket, took a bite out of her sandwich, and began walking away.

I shook my head, turning away from the window. A loud bell rang, and I could hear the shuffling of students trying to get to class. Some began to enter my class, clearly happy about being there. I smiled as they entered, Rogue still in my mind. I imagined her going for a walk to try and clear her mind, and then coming back for dinner. I'd talk to her then, try and help her feel less unwanted.

During my last class of the day, I began to feel a bit woozy, light-headed. My stomach churned, but I kept my composure until the bell rang again, signaling the end of class. Then I dashed to the nearest bathroom to relieve myself of my breakfast and small lunch.

"Not again," I groaned, wiping my mouth. I stood to try and find a washcloth. When I did, I wet it down with cold water and put it over my forehead. "Not again," I repeated.

_Rebecca, meet me at Cerebro,_ I heard the professor's voice inside my head. _Rogue has disappeared._

This caught my attention, and I raced to get to Cerebro. Teleporting was not an option at this time; it would only make me feel worse. I managed to get to the elevator just as Jean and Ororo were boarding it. They looked at me, both concerned.

"What's the matter?" Jean asked, looking at my flushed face and washcloth.

"I'm gettin' another power," I explained. "Not a fun time. Kinda painful."

"Do you need to lie down?" Ororo asked.

I shook my head. "Rogue's missin'," I said. "We need ta find her. I saw her talk to Bobby this afternoon, from my classroom window. I dunno what they were sayin', but whatever it was must've upset her enough to make her leave. I saw her start ta walk off... I thought she was just goin' ta clear her mind, not run away!"

I was very upset with myself, feeling stupid for not realizing this before. The door to the elevator opened, and we rushed out into the hall, almost running into Logan, Scott, and Xavier.

"What are we doin?" Logan demanded, staring at us as we approached Cerebro's polished steel door. "Why aren't we looking for her?"

"We are," Scott said.

Xavier moved his chair up to a panel positioned at his eye level beside the door. The screen lit up, registering his presence, and he let it scan his eyes and forehead. A measure to keep out those who shouldn't have access to Cerebro, including any of the school's students. A moment later the security computer recognized him and the massive steel door clicked loudly, then started to open.

"The brain waves of mutants are different than average human beings," Xavier said, explaining to Logan as they moved along. "Cerebro is a device which amplifies my power, allowing me to locate mutants over great distances."

"That's how you followed the Sabretooth guy," Logan said, nodding. I guessed Sabretooth to be the one I had to fight while rescuing Logan and Rogue. "And you found me and Rogue."

"It is."

"Welcome, Professor," the computer voice said as we all moved inside.

Xavier nodded as Logan looked around the large room, obviously impressed by its size. I'd only been in here once before, but I didn't allow myself to show my amazement of the machine I still held. The entrance led us to a small platform at the center of one wall. The platform was engineered to extend out so that the operator was dropped directly in the center of the sphere.

"Well," Logan said, looking around, "this certainly is a big, round room. Why don't you just use this to find Magneto?"

"I've been trying," Xavier said as he moved into his position out on the platform. "But he seems to have found a way to shield himself from it."

Logan stared at him as I and the others waited patiently. "And just how would he know how to do that?"

"Because he helped me build it."

This was certainly new news to Logan and me both.

"Would you excuse me?" Xavier said to us.

Scott, Ororo, and I moved out of the room as Jean stayed behind to set a few controls on the main board. Logan soon followed her out into the hall, and we all watched as the solid steel doors closed behind us, sealing the professor inside, away from all other thoughts in the school.

As we waited, no one said anything, and I watched Logan as he paced. Ororo and Scott had sat down on the floor soon after we came out of the room, and I leaned against the wall, feeling even lower than I had previously. The washcloth in my hand was dried up now, and I stuffed it into my back pocket; I was burning up with a fever. I knew that I'd soon begin to feel non-existent bumps crawling around under my skin, and I'd want to scratch them; it's how it had always happened with me, and I'd hated it every time. I could never get used to it.

"What's it like?" Logan asked suddenly, jarring me from my thoughts. "This Cerebro thing he's using."

"I've never used Cerebro," Jean said. "It takes a certain degree of control."

"And I'm not prepared to see your memory erased," Scott chimed in.

Logan looked at Jean sharply, and she nodded, then glanced at the panel. "He's coming out."

We all gathered around as the massive steel doors opened, like an ultramodern bank vault. Professor Xavier wheeled out and looked up at Scott. "She's a few miles up the road. At the train station."

"I'll go," Logan said, starting to turn away.

"You can't leave the mansion, Logan," Xavier said. "It's just the opportunity that Magneto needs."

Logan turned and faced Xavier straight on. "Yeah, but I'm the reason she took off."

The hard eyes of Xavier looked back at him without blinking. "We had a deal, Logan," he said, and I could feel the potency of his words from where I stood. "Forty-eight hours."

Logan nodded.

"She's all right, Logan," Jean said. "She's just upset."

"Storm, Cyclops," Xavier said, turning toward them. "Go see if you can talk to her."

Cyclops nodded, and they both headed off at a run to the ready room, to change into the black uniforms. I began to stand.

"And Rebecca, I feel that you need to rest while Jean and I go talk to the students," he said, looking towards me. "You're getting another power already."

"Yeah, I noticed," I said, shaking my head free of the fuzz that began to cloud it over. "I saw Rogue leave this afternoon. Bobby talked to her. I thought she was just gonna go walk it off, I didn't know she'd actually run away."

"Bobby?" Xavier asked. He thought for a moment, then nodded. "We'll start there. In the mean-time, you get some rest. And Logan, do not leave this mansion. Jean, let's go."

I watched them go, then turned back to Logan, who seemed to be having an internal conflict.

"Oh, hell! Get outa here!" I said, hitting him on the arm and motioning out of the place. "Tha garage is back there. Get Scott's bike; he won't mind." He stared at me for a moment. "I won't tell if you don't," I added with a smirk.

He nodded, smiling back and clapped me on the shoulder. "Good luck with that new power thing," he said before dashing off.

"Yeah, thanks..."

I started for the elevator, feeling my bed calling to me for once. I began staggering once on the floor of my room, and a massive movement within my head forced me to teleport back to my room. I stood for a moment, confused, then I slumped over onto my bed and passed out.


	15. Senator Kelly

**Chapter 15: Senator Kelly  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. The end.**

I awoke I don't know how much longer later to a persistent pounding on my door. I got up, my eyes heavy with pain and sleep. I managed to open the door, and I saw Scott glaring (I couldn't actually tell if he was glaring through his visor, but he wasn't happy) at me.

"Come on," he said, turning around as soon as I'd opened the door. "The professor wants to have a chat with us all."

"Why didn't he just call me with his power?" I asked, rubbing my eyes to become more awake. I noticed the pain was gone. I either had my new power by now, or I was having a nice moment of peace.

"He said you were so out of it, he couldn't."

"What happened?"

"We went down to the train station, but were attacked by two of Magneto's accomplices, Sabretooth and Toad," he explained quickly, leading me down the hall and to Xavier's office. "We lost Rogue."

"What about Logan?"

"He didn't want Logan," Scott said, his voice becoming almost lower than a growl. "All he wanted was Rogue."

"Why?"

"We don't know that yet."

"How long've I been out?"

"I guess about an hour, now," Scott said. "We had to get outa there before the police could do anything. The professor wiped their memories. That only took a bit."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

We went in silence the rest of the way and entered Xavier's office. I shut the door quickly behind me and looked at the scene: Logan was leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the room, Xavier was sitting in his wheelchair near the front, Ororo and Jean sat in chairs before Xavier's desk, but had them facing the door. Scott now went and took his place next to Jean. A very uncomfortable silence settled over us.

"You said he wanted me," Logan said, sneering at Xavier, letting the contempt show in his voice.

"I've made a terrible mistake," the professor admitted, nodding.

"I'd say," Logan said, showing no mercy.

"Magneto's helmet," Xavier said, going on. "It is somehow designed to block my telepathy. I couldn't see what he was after until it was too late."

"It's not your fault," Scott said.

"No?" Logan said. "Why blame the biggest brain on the planet?"

"Hey," Scott said, turning to face him. "I sure didn't see you stop him."

"How could you, blind man?"

Scott's face got red around his visor, and he charged like a bull elephant.

"Scott!" Jean shouted, but it was too late.

Logan laughed and ducked easily under Scott's fist, grabbed his arm, twisted it up behind his back, and slammed him into the wall, face first. I grabbed him before he could release his claws and pulled him, one handed, off of Scott, throwing him forcefully back into Xavier's desk. He glared up at me, teeth bared like a caged animal.

"We're not fightin' each other here," I said to him, turning to look at Scott as well. "We're fightin' Magneto. Remember that, an' let's see how far it'll get us tonight."

I stood between the two, still feeling the heat extending from both of them. They stared at each other from around me. Suddenly, Logan stood, almost shoving the desk back against the wall and going out of the office, starting off down the hall. Storm went after him.

A few silent minutes passed between us in Xavier's office. Scott finally got up and came over to me, nodded, then went and sat in the chair by Jean.

"Professor! Jean!" I heard Ororo's voice calling from the front hall.

We all rushed to the front hall, where Senator Kelly, the man I'd grown to hate over the past year of traveling (he hated mutants with a passion) was lying on the floor, Ororo and Logan leaning over him. I stared, wondering what was the matter with him, for he looked as though he'd been dipped into a large vat of olive oil, and was sweating it all off. I looked at him in disgust, but was directed by Jean to help Logan pick him up and carry him down to the hospital-like area of the basement.

I took the senator by his arms, and Logan by his legs, and we managed to get him down to the basement room without dropping him, though he was very slippery. Whatever his mutation was, I hoped that I wouldn't get it.

Once inside, we set Kelly on the bed in the medical lab, then Logan, Ororo, and I retreated to a counter on the other side of the bed. Scott was sitting on a second medical bed, as far away from Logan as he could possibly get. Jean stood over the senator, Xavier just next to her.

"What has happened to him?" Xavier asked Jean.

Jean shrugged. "I can't explain it, but he's a mutant. Or better put, he's become one."

"What's his mutation?"

"He's extremely adaptable," Jean said. "He can effectively change the shape of his body."

"So why does he look like this?" Logan asked.

"Something's wrong with his mutation," Jean said. "His cells are losing their integrity. They're liquefying. He's literally falling apart."

"Is there any way to reverse the problem?" Xavier asked.

Jean shook her head. At that moment Kelly moaned and opened his eyes. I smirked; this was obviously pay-back for everything he'd done to mutants. Xavier moved his chair up to a position head-high with Senator Kelly as Jean lowered the bed.

"Senator Kelly, my name is Professor Charles Xavier. This is my school."

Kelly nodded. "For mutants?"

Xavier glanced at Jean, then back at Kelly. "Yes."

Kelly half-nodded. "I was afraid that if I went to a hospital, they would-"

"Treat you like a mutant?" Xavier said. "We are not what you think. Not all of us."

"Tell that to the ones who did this to me," Kelly said.

Xavier nodded, then moved closer and looked directly into the senator's eyes. "I need you to try and relax. I'm not going to hurt you. But I need to find out as best as I can what happened to you, to see if we can help you."

Kelly nodded and took as deep a breath as he could. Xavier looked into the man's eyes, then put a hand on Kelly's wet forehead. I watched this in utter amazement; my ability to forgive did not extend this far, and if asked to help, I would've let the senator die. As far as I was concerned, he deserved it. I stole a glance at Logan, who looked back at me. Clearly, we were having the same thoughts.

Quiet moments passed as we allowed the professor to take a look into Kelly's mind. Then, Xavier jerked away and wiped his hands. He took a deep breath in.

"Well?" Logan asked as Xavier opened his eyes and wiped his hands again.

Xavier didn't answer for a long time. He was lost in his own thoughts, probably reviewing what he'd seen in Kelly's mind.

"Professor?" Jean asked, stepping toward him. "Are you all right?"

He nodded. "Not here. In my office."

The senator's head lolled to one side, and his eyes closed.

Jean quickly checked him. "He's just sleeping, at least for the moment."

"Pity," I said, my distaste of the senator shown very obviously in that one word.

Xavier nodded, not hearing me, then turned his chair to face the door. "Someone needs to stay with him."

"I will," Storm said.

Logan, Jean, Scott, and I followed the professor out the door.

"Call me if something changes," Jean said.

"I don't think anything will," Xavier said, "at least not for the better."

I was shocked at the professor's pessimism.

"So?" Logan asked as Jean closed the door and the professor moved behind his desk. "What does Magneto want with Rogue? You get that much?"

"The senator doesn't know," Xavier said.

Logan waited, and watched. I did the same, feeling that Xavier was very upset by what he'd seen in Kelly's mind.

"It seems that Magneto has built a machine that emits a radiation that triggers mutation in normal human beings," Xavier continued. "And it seems to draw its power from Magneto."

"But the mutation is unnatural," Jean said. "Kelly's body is rejecting it. His cells began to break down almost immediately."

"I don't think Magneto knows that," Xavier said. "Kelly escaped before Magneto ran any tests."

"What kind of effect does the radiation have on mutants?" Scott asked.

Xavier thought for a moment, then said, "None, from what I can tell."

"But it will most likely kill any normal person exposed to it," Jean said, "if Senator Kelly is any indication."

Logan had grown very quiet in his thought. Not much of this was making sense to me, and it appeared the same for him.

"Hey, Chuck?" Logan said.

The professor glanced up, almost looking annoyed. Hell, I would've too if someone had called me Chuck.

"You said this machine draws its power from Magneto?"

"Yes," Xavier said.

"What exactly did it do to him?" Logan asked. "Did you get that much from the senator's brain?"

"It clearly weakened him," Xavier said, then paused for what seemed a very long time. "In fact, it nearly killed him." Sudden awareness swept across his face; his idea seemed to spring inside my head, for I felt my face contort to make the same expression his had taken. "Oh, my God. He's going to transfer his power to Rogue, so next time, the machine kills her—not him."

"And his power will return to him naturally after a short time," Jean said.

Logan froze, as I had done just moments before. All of us were stunned with this thought. Suddenly, talk sprang up again. It was like a round-robin of conversation, always coming back to Rogue, and where she would be, where Magneto would've taken her, what he would do, where he would go. I wanted to go out and save the girl, but no, the rest of the group wanted to talk. Logan and I sat back, showing our annoyance by glaring at the ground.

"So," Jean said, glancing at Logan and me, "if Magneto wanted to turn a group of people into mutants, where would he do it?"

This question was met with silence. I had no idea.

"I'll use Cerebro to try and find Rogue," Xavier said, breaking the silence. "That might help us figure out where they are heading. Cyclops, would you and Storm ready the jet?"

Logan pushed himself from where he'd been leaning against the wall.

"Jean," Xavier said, "find Logan a uniform."

"No," Scott said. "He's not coming."

Logan turned. I sighed, throwing my hands up in frustration. Here we went again...

"You little--"

"I'm sorry, Professor," Scott said, ignoring Logan. "It's not gonna happen. He'll endanger the mission and my team."

"Hey," Logan countered, "I wasn't the one who gave the train station a new sunroof. So you can take your mission and stick it. I'll do this on my own."

"Stop acting like children!" Xavier said firmly, looking first at Scott, then at Logan. "Both of you! People's lives are at stake. Rogue's life is at stake!"

Logan grew very quiet, seeming unsure how to respond to that. The door opened and Ororo came in, looking shaken. She was wiping her hands on a towel, over and over.

"Senator Kelly's dead," she said. "He melted. It was not a pleasant thing to watch." She wiped her hands again.

Silence filled the room again like a thick cloud, holding everything still. Finally Xavier nodded, and moved his chair out from behind his desk and toward the door.

With a quick glance at Scott, then Logan, he said, "Settle this."

Then he wheeled himself out of the room


	16. A New Power

**Chapter 16: A New Power  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. The end.**

** Author's Note: I seem to have written myself into a corner with Chapter 17. So... yeah. Don't be surprised if updates are next to nothing. I'm not as into the X-Men fic as I am my other Harry Potter fic. I know that one has less chapters, but I'm actually trying on that one. This might not be updated anymore unless I get some ideas. So, enjoy what's here. Onto the story.  
**

Only a short time later were we all back in the medical lab, watching over the professor, who lay in the second bed beside the one where Kelly had lain not an hour before. Xavier's breathing was shallow, but still there. I watched Scott lean over the bed and look at the man with pure sadness. The wheelchair Xavier used sat next to the bed, waiting for him to be ready to spring up and take him to where he needed to go. Electrodes were taped to his temples and forehead. The monitors showed erratic brain wave activity. Even I could tell that much.

"What can we do now?" Ororo asked.

Jean stood on the other side of the table, and Logan was leaning against the wall behind her. I was across the room from them all. Jean shook her head.

"We just have to wait."

Logan looked up; it was clear he was upset, maybe as much as the rest of us were.

"I think we should get some rest," Jean said. "We're not going to be making very good decisions when we're this tired. We'll take turns watching over the professor."

"And we're going to need to take care of the students," Ororo said. "I'll do that."

"Rest," Jean said.

Ororo nodded as she headed for the door. Logan pushed himself away from the wall and moved over to stand by the professor. Then, as he passed by Scott, he put a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Scott."

All Scott could do was nod his thanks. I was shocked at this display, and I watched Logan leave the room. Then I went and paid my respects to the professor, Jean, and Scott before following Logan out. He wasn't too far ahead of me when I reached him. We both looked at each other for a moment.

"This's too weird," I said, shaking my head. "All this stuff just happenin' at once... It just doesn't make sense."

"Tell me about it," he said, sighing. "You gonna rest?"

"I was knocked out for about an hour earlier today," I said. "I'm good for another week er so."

"Why were you knocked out?"

"I gained a power," I said. "At least... I think I did." I shrugged. "This might just be tha quiet before tha storm." Just as I said this, I scratched my arm.

"Oh, yeah, another power," Logan said. "So, wanna make a bet on what it'll be this time?"

I shook my head, sensing his either playful or mocking tone, I wasn't quite sure which. "That's okay." I scratched my ear this time.

"Aw, come on," he said. "Live a little."

I looked at him from the corner of my eyes. "No. I've lived too much already." I let my nails crawl over my right shoulder.

He scoffed. "You're only twenty, come on."

"You don't have any idea how much older than that I feel sometimes," I informed him, wiping a hand over my face. "Like now... How did that happen to Xavier? There's just nothin' that suggests it could've happened..." I stopped.

"What?"

"Maybe I should've stayed out on tha road," I growled, quickening my pace, scratching my other arm as I went. "It'd have been a hell of a lot easier than tryin' ta deal with this crap."

"My sentiments exactly," Logan replied, his voice low. "But we're here now, and it seems these guys really need us."

"It looks that way, huh?" I said, shaking my head; I scratched the side of my nose. "I feel like I owe him somethin', ya know. Tha professor. He brought me here an' changed my life around, got me all new clothes, a place ta sleep..." I scoffed. "Why'd he bring a wanted person here?"

"Wanted?"

"I'm wanted by the government," I said, showing my amusement as I scratched my hand. "'Cause I killed a couple a their guys who came after me." I shrugged. "I only kill those who do somethin' ta me first."

"Damn."

I couldn't tell if he was impressed or just shocked. As we started up the stairs, I was scratching my neck, not even thinking about all the itching.

"Hey, you all right?" Logan asked suddenly.

I stopped scratching as I reached the top of the stairs, realizing just how much I'd been doing it in the past few minutes.

"I don't think so," I said quietly, feeling the bumps beginning to come on. They began moving around under my skin; the feeling was horrible.

I started toward my room, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. My world went on its side, and I ran into my door, unable to get it open. I felt hands grab my shoulders, try to lift me up.

"Becca, what's goin' on?" Logan asked, alarmed.

I shrugged him off, not wanting to be touched. He let me go, and I slid to the floor, my back against the door. The things under my skin were unbearable, but when I looked, nothing was crawling; I could see nothing on my skin. I gnashed my teeth together, putting my head up to rest against the wooden frame.

I felt Logan grasp my shoulders again, and he pulled me to my feet, opening my door and taking me inside. I tried to walk on my own, but he held me firmly until he set me on my bed.

"You're a mess," he said quietly, still wondering at my predicament. "Maybe I should get Jean..."

"Jean can't help me," I whispered hoarsely to him. "My power's comin'..."

I started to feel very warm. A bead of sweat dripped into my eye, and I wiped it away forcefully, still feeling the invisible things swarming underneath my skin. I groaned in my frustration, slamming my fists against my bed, which shook violently as I did so. The combination of all these things was driving me insane, as it did every time.

"Take it easy, Becca," Logan said, standing next to my bed.

By now, my vision was blurred, and I could barely see two inches in front of me. The colors were very vibrant now, and almost over-whelmed me. It hurt to breath, so I breathed very shallowly. My mind was feeling as though it was slowly shutting down, and I didn't feel like myself. My senses were heightened to where I could smell and hear everything around me; only my vision was skewed. I panicked, sitting up straight in my bed. I fell down onto the floor, onto all fours and stood there, unable to breath.

"Rebecca?" Logan said loudly, coming down on the floor next to me; he was on his hands and knees as well.

I shook my head at him; I never wanted people around to see me in this state; this was my only weakness, and I didn't want people to know that.

"C'mon, breathe!" Logan said quietly, looking over my face.

I took a harsh breath in, but it made my lungs feel like they would explode.

"I'm gettin' Jean," he said sternly, starting to get up.

I grabbed his hand, meeting his eye. "Don't go," I said, knowing that I sounded desperate; at this point, I didn't care. "It's almost done."

He nodded, taking my hand in his. I felt him tighten his grip on me, and I strangely allowed him to, though a part of me told the hand to force its way free. I stayed on the ground for a moment more, until I could breathe. My vision cleared, and my hearing and smell (though still heightened) went back to normal. I looked up.

"Is it over?" he asked, letting my hand go.

I stood, looking around. "I think so," I told him. He stood with me. "Thanks fer stayin'."

He shrugged. "Just don't do that again," he said. "Looks painful. Hurt to even watch ya go through that."

"Don't get so sentimental on me, Wolverine," I said with a roll of my eyes.

He scoffed, smirking. "So, how do you know what it is?"

"Hold on," I said. "I gotta search my mind... look fer somethin' weird."

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply as I did a thorough search of the mutant part of my brain, something I'd had to learn to do on my own if I'd even want to discover what my new power was. My eyes were still closed when I found it, but I let my eyebrows screw up in my confusion. This power wasn't quite like the others.

I opened my eyes, tapping into it at the same time. I was still facing Logan, but he looked stunned, and began looking around the room.

"Becca, this ain't funny," he growled, clearly annoyed.

I let go of the power, and he looked at me, a little perturbed. He put his hands on his hips.

"I thought you were lookin' for yer new power."

"I was," I answered. "Apparently, I found it." I smirked. "It's invisibility- something useful... not like there isn't a mutation that _isn't_ useful."

"Could make things interestin'," Logan remarked. "What's that make it now?"

"Thirteen," I said without missing a beat.

He shook his head. "I still don't know how ya manage it, kid," he said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair.

"How many times do I have ta tell ya about the 'kid' thing, Wolverine?" I asked with a bemused smirk.

"Sorry- Becca," he said, raising his eyebrows.

I cringed. "Could you not call me that anymore?"

"Why? Don't tell me it offends ya, too."

"No, it's just-" I rubbed my arm, looking to the ground. "My parents called me that."

"Ah." He understood immediately, recalling what I had told him my parents had done to me. "Well, sorry again… Becky." He smirked. "Better?"

"Whatever ya wanna call me, Logan," I said with a chuckle and a shake of my head.

I sat on the edge of my bed, crossing my arms over my chest. "God, this sucks," I sighed, bringing my legs up on the bed and crossing them as well. "I wish we could figure out where Rogue was…"

"Think you could find her?" he asked, curious. "I mean, you and Xavier seem ta have the same sorta abilities."

"Yeah, but if I called out to Rogue, she could choose not ta answer," I told him. "It wouldn't work. An' I don't exactly know how ta go about findin' a lost mutant that I've only known a couple a days."

"Then why d'ya care so much if you've only known her a few days?"

"Why do you?" I asked, looking him in the eye. He shifted uncomfortably under my steady gaze. "If you must know, it's 'cause she reminds me a little of myself at her age- mind, I was a little wilder 'cause that guy had a firm grip on me…"

He nodded, taking a seat in a chair next to the open door. "Yeah," he said thoughtfully. "I guess she kinda reminds me a lil' a myself."

He looked up at me, considering me for a moment.

"Yeah, I know, we're a lot alike." I spoke his thoughts aloud. He chuckled.

"Do you make it a habit of saying what others are thinkin'?"

"Only with people who I know won't mind."

"How d'ya know I won't mind?" he asked, still smirking.

I touched a finger to my forehead.

"Ah… of course," he said, nodding slowly. "It'll get ya in trouble some day, Becky, so be careful."

"Yer tellin' me ta be careful?" I asked incredulously. "Remember, Logan, I had to help save yer ass once 'cause you couldn't handle an over-grown kitten."

He clearly bristled at this. I'd found his weakness.

"I was doin' fine," he growled back.

"Yeah, bein' knocked unconscious while Sabertooth leans over ya for the kill- that's in total control a the situation right there," I replied with as much sarcasm as I could muster.

He growled again, deep within his throat- so low I could barely hear it. A thought passed through the front of his mind as his eyes flicked over me.

"What?" I asked, not getting the full thought clearly. "What're ya thinkin' there, Wolverine?" I was enjoying this too much, and I could tell it was pissing him off to no end.

"I was wonderin' which of us would win in a fair fight," he said, still growling, though attempting to keep it under control. "No claws, no other powers other than our brute strength."

"I'd take ya up on that challenge if we weren't on the verge of a war," I said.

"It's not like either of us would be hurt," he said. "Or tired afterward, for that matter. C'mon, _kid_, what're ya, scared?"

It was my turn to bristle. "D'you know what real fear is?" I asked, my voice low and deadly.

"I have a pretty good idea," he said, standing. I stood as well, though I only came up to his shoulder, so the effect wasn't quite what I had been going for. "But the question is: are you scared of me?"

"Why should I be scared a you?" I snarled.

"'Cause wolverines are one of the deadliest creatures alive."

I turned my head to try and just walk away, and that's when I felt the first blow. I put a hand up to my cheek reflexively, but the pain was gone in an instant. My eyes went back to Logan's.

"You dunno what yer gettin' yerself into, Wolverine," I said, backing away and pointing a finger at him.

"And what am I getting myself into?" he asked.

"I dunno even know the extent of my own physical strength," I said. "D'you really wanna find out the hard way?"

"What if I do?"

I smiled, shaking my head and allowing myself to laugh a little bit. "Yer a jackass, ya know that, right?"

"Only when I want to be," he answered.

Somehow, I saw the truth behind his words. Suddenly, I saw that he was trying to hide a smirk. He wanted to get me annoyed. He wanted to test me- if for nothing else, his own amusement.

"Why're ya doin' this, Logan?" I asked, smiling a little.

"'Cause we got some time ta kill before Chuck starts givin' any clear orders," he said, shrugging. "'Cause you an' I both need ta stop feelin' guilty about Rogue." He paused. 'Cause I wanna see just how strong ya really are," he added with a smirk.


	17. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

So, everyone… here we are. I realize that I've seriously neglected this story, and upon looking back at it, I can understand why. Although I still enjoy this character, I believe that this story needs some serious re-vamping. I was relying a bit too heavily on the actual movies for my taste, and feel the need to make this story a bit more of my own. I also want to change Rebecca's character a bit more, make her slightly less obnoxious in my eyes. She'll still have the same basic characteristics… just with mild changes to her personality and story.

Please be patient, as I know you all have been with me over the past year or whatever ridiculous amount of time it's been since I've updated this. Just know that I'll be working on my story over the next couple of weeks, and expect to have the first chapter up sometime in March. (If I set a goal for myself, then it is more likely to happen.) From there, you can expect an update probably about once a month, probably more when summer happens, as I'll be bored.

Thanks to everyone who's been supporting this story. I'll edit this chapter and place a link in it when I have started the new story, and you can always look on my profile.

~JJ

**Edit:**

Here's that link I promised: .net/s/4873792/1/


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